Saving Batman
by Cara245
Summary: What would you do for love or friendship? When Ranger goes missing, Stephanie finds out just how far she's willing to go to get him back where he belongs. Rated M to be safe. Babefic all the way, but Morelli and Mrs. Plum don't really figure in the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 1: Operation What?<p>

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><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

Most people get up in the morning, put in a solid eight hours at their job, and then, after a little dinner and maybe watching some TV with their significant other, drop off to sleep, safe and snug in their warm bed, until it's time to do it all over again. But I'm not most people.

First of all, I'd woken up just shy of noon, and spent the afternoon talking a shop lifter and an old guy who liked to flash his wiener at Bingo into accompanying me to the Police department so my sleazy cousin could re-bond them. And then, I'd grabbed a couple of TastyKakes for dinner and spent my evening hunting down Jimmy Scarzoli, who was out on bond for selling counterfeit Viagra over at the Senior Center. I'd finally tracked him down at his cousin's restaurant, and after just a teensy bit of fuss, hauled him into the cop shop. I don't care what my Mom says, it was a good capture – nothing got broken and spaghetti and tiramisu stains probably come out of carpet. My name is Stephanie Plum, and I've just described an average day in my life.

Anyway, after my third shower of the day, I'd climbed into my extremely solitary bed just shy of midnight and dropped right off to sleep. I was in the middle of a pretty good dream, too, when someone started to shake me awake. I wish I could say that this was the first time I'd been awakened by an intruder, but since I started chasing down bail jumpers for my cousin Vinnie a few years ago, my apartment and I had been through more than our share of break-ins, gunfire, and even fire bombs.

My eyes snapped open as a shadowy weight settled on the bed next to me, and a hand clapped over my mouth before I could get out a good scream. Judging by the size of the hand, my intruder was huge; I'm about 5'7" tall, 130 pounds on a good day, but never underestimate the power of a good dose of terror with a chaser of adrenaline. I bit into the dinner-plate sized paw that covered half of my face and desperately groped around for something I could use for a weapon.

"Jesus, Bombshell!" My attacker's other hand snatched the alarm clock out of my grasp and what felt like a ton of bricks settled over my chest. "Fuck!" He swore as I clamped down harder on his palm. "It's me! Stop fighting and I'll let you up, OK?"

Just then, the overhead light clicked on and I found myself staring up into a very familiar wide, brown face. "mmmpf Tank?" I mumbled as I slowly released my grip on his palm.

No wonder it'd felt like a mountain had fallen on me. Tank's about six feet, six inches in his bare feet, and he's built like his nickname. His mother had named him Pierre and he has three cats named Applepuff, Suzy and Miss Kitty, but don't let the name and cute little kitties fool you. He was one scary dude at the best of times, and right then I wasn't entirely sure which side he was on. Yeah, Tank had spent a lot of time looking out for me when my friend and occasional lover, Ranger, couldn't, but pinning me to my bed at 2 AM didn't exactly add up to a neighborly visit.

He eased off of me, slightly. "You gonna scream if I take my hand away?" When I just glared at him, he sighed and eased away until he stood at my bedside.

"Christ, Tank!" I exclaimed as I dragged the sheets back up to cover the tank top and boxer shorts I'd worn to bed. "What the hell are you doing, sneaking in here in the middle of the night? Call first next time," I grumbled as I tried to discreetly slide over to the far side of my bed. I gauged the distance to the door, and not for the first time that year wished I hadn't left my gun in my cookie jar.

Tank held up a duffle bag I hadn't noticed before. "Sorry, Steph, but I need you to get dressed and come with me ten minutes ago."

"No." When he scowled at me I just crossed my arms over my chest and glared back as I finally got my heartrate under control. "How long have you known me, Tank?"

He sighed and scrubbed one hand over his face. "Too damn long."

Huh. If Tank didn't look tired to the bone, I'd hit him for that comment. "So what makes you think you can order me to do anything?"

A low chuckle came from the doorway, giving me heart palpitations for the second time that night. I whipped my head toward the sound and relaxed slightly as Lester Santos came into view. "Forgive him, Beautiful. He's been hit on the head a lot."

Tank flipped him off and turned back toward me. "Give me break, just once, Bombshell?"

I thought for a second. "This have anything to do with Ranger being in the wind?" When he nodded, I sighed and held out my hand for the duffle. "Explain to me why you barged in here and scared the crap out of me, and _maybe_ I'll cooperate."

Tank sighed yet again and handed over the bag. "How about you get dressed first and I'll explain?"

Since I really didn't feel like hanging around Tank and Lester half-dressed, I hitched the sheet around me more securely and stood. "Fine. I'll change, you talk," I told him as I headed toward the bathroom. I left the door slightly ajar and dropped the sheet. "No peeking!" I yelled through the opening. "That goes double for you, Les!"

"Aw, Beautiful, you're never any fun!" There was a yelp, and I let myself smile for the first time that night.

"If he peeks, hit him again for me, Tank," I called as I unzipped the bag. But anything else I might've said was lost as I got my first look at the contents.

"Uh, Tank, what's with the loaded gun?" I asked as I poked gingerly into the bag. There were extra clips, too, and a fat wad of hundred dollar bills that I was afraid to touch. Instead, I looked into the slim wallet that was laid on top of it all. "And who the Hell is Michelle Miller?" _And why did she have my face?_ I wondered as I inspected the driver's license with a Philadelphia address, credit cards, and gym membership card some comedian had stuffed into the wallet's pockets.

"It's a bug-out bag," Lester supplied helpfully.

"Boss's orders." Tank's voice rumbled through the door. "Operation Omega."

"And that means what?" I prompted as I dug out the jeans and shirt someone had packed for me. They were designer and my size, and I briefly tried to imagine Ranger shopping for it and the coordinating ballet flats I found in the bottom of the bag. And then I found the sports bra and sensible cotton panties and decided I had his housekeeper, Ella, to thank for the outfit. Ranger would've gotten me sexy undies or none at all.

"It means you disappear, and RangeMan goes into lock-down," He told me gruffly.

RangeMan is a high-tech security company that's co-owned by Ranger and a couple of his Army buddies. I've seen them bust gangs down on Stark Street one day and international terrorists the next, but I've never seen Tank rattled until just then. A shiver of real fear slithered down my spine. Ranger had threatened me with a safe house a time or two when things had gotten rough, but the gun, cash and fake ID all added up to one thing in my mind.

"Where's Ranger?" I asked suspiciously. When they didn't answer, my spidey senses went wild and a tight ball of dread settled into the pit of my stomach. Yep. Shit was getting real.

I dressed in record time and rushed out of the bathroom without another word. I grabbed my purse and hamster cage from the kitchen counter, and I was almost to the front door when I realized that neither of the guys were following me.

"Hey, time's a-wasting," I told them as they stared at me open-mouthed from the bedroom doorway. "But you'd better forget anything about me going on the run. We're going to RangeMan, and then you're going to tell me what's really going on."

R&S~R&S~R&S

I must've sounded like I meant business because the next thing I knew, we were in a SUV headed toward the RangeMan building on Haywood. Neither Les nor Tank seemed to be in a mood to talk, so I instead leaned back against the seat and thought back to how I'd gotten to this moment in time.

I grew up in a fairly traditional Italian-Hungarian family, if you ignored my Grandma Mazur, in an extremely traditional neighborhood in south Trenton known as the Burg. Except for trying to fly off of my parents' garage that one time and losing my virginity on the floor of the Tasty Pastry when I was sixteen, I was your average Jersey girl. Mostly.

I didn't flunk out of catholic high school, learned how to wield a can of aqua-net with the best of them, and never went anywhere without at least two coats of waterproof mascara. I even graduated from college with a degree in business and a minor in pool, and got married right away to a guy my mom liked. Sure, my marriage to Dickie Orr didn't last a year on account of he was a cheating sleazebag, but again, it was still all within the range of normal human experience.

It really wasn't until I was out of work and ended up blackmailing my cousin for a job that my life took a turn towards weirds-ville. My first bail jumper was Joe Morelli, a Trenton Vice cop and the guy who'd relieved me of my virginity. Needless to say, there was some bad blood between us – maybe because Joe wrote about our encounter on men's room walls all over town, and I chose to show him how I felt about that a few years later by running him down with my dad's Buick. So, Joe wasn't about to do me any favors by going back to jail peacefully, which was when I met Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, AKA Ranger. Connie, the office manager at the Bonds office, called in a favor and got Ranger to show me the ropes.

Ranger is in one word, a bad-ass. He's a former Special Forces soldier and a better bounty hunter than I'll ever be. His cars and wardrobe come in only one color – basic black – and he's a man of few words and even fewer facial expressions. I call him Batman, and sometimes I even believe that he has a cape hiding in his closet.

Those first couple of weeks, I wasn't sure he took me seriously, but he gave me a crash course in bounty hunting 101, and made sure I had the usual tools of the trade – handcuffs, defense spray, and a gun I still hate to carry. I brought in Morelli, and coincidentally helped him clear his name of a murder charge in the process. And in the months and years that followed, my life fell into a strange, but not entirely unsatisfying pattern. For one thing, Joe and I started dating – we were even engaged once. Of course, we've been off and on so much we practically needed a spreadsheet to track the status of our relationship.

And Ranger… He's been my mentor, co-worker and sometimes lover. We slept together once when Morelli and I were on a long break, and a couple of times since when Joe and I were trying out a non-commitment agreement. I'm not proud of that part, but it is what it is. In the dark of night, I have to admit I'd like us to be more, but Ranger's always told me that his love comes with a condom and not a ring, and my Catholic guilt won't let me do booty calls.

Ranger's said a lot of crap to me, but that doesn't change one irrefutable fact: we've had each other's back time and time again. He's pulled me out of more scrapes than I can count and he's literally jumped off of a bridge for me. I've faced more than one homicidal maniac for him and I'd do it again. He's my best and truest friend, even though I couldn't tell you what his favorite movie is.

So, Operation Omega or not, there was no way I was just going to run and hide if Ranger was in trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:** The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistgot are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 2: Stephanie Who?<p>

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><p>We pulled into the garage at RangeMan just before 3 AM to find Hal, Hector and Ram were ferrying loads of equipment from the elevator to a line of waiting SUVs. I attempted to raise one eyebrow in question and Les just shrugged.<p>

"Standard operating procedure, Beautiful. Security monitoring is going off-site."

Right… This had happened a couple of months ago when Vlatko had tried to poison everyone in the building with polonium. I could barely manage to keep me and Rex fed and a semi-water tight roof over our heads most days. The RangeMen could set up shop in a safe house with ten minutes' notice.

We took the stairs since the elevator was otherwise occupied, and when we exited onto the fifth floor, I was shocked to see that the control room was a hive of activity. Every cubicle was occupied, with either a RangeMan hunched over the computer or on the phone. I dodged yet another cart full of equipment and headed toward the break room.

Rex poked his nose out of his soup can as soon as I'd deposited him on the counter. "Now you're going to be good, right?" I asked him when I dropped a few pretzels and a grape in his cage. Satisfied that I'd done my hamster mothering for the morning, I went in search of some the guys.

I found them in Tank's office, doing some sort of weird stand-off thing that only guys seem to be good at. I cleared my throat to get their attention. "So – Operation Omega?"

Lester and Tank exchanged another long look and that's when I really started to fear for the worst. "Where's Ranger?" I asked for the second time that night.

"It's a precaution Ranger put in place a long time ago… For when he's on assignment." Tank sighed and motioned for me to sit. "A message came through at 030 hours this morning, so we're following procedure."

"Which somehow involves safe houses, everyone armed like it's the zombie apocalypse and me leaving town." I said flatly, matter-of-factly. When they nodded, I asked the question I'd been wanting to since Tank barged into my bedroom. "Why?"

Tank and Les had another one of their silent conversations and Les obviously lost the mental 'Rock, paper, scissors' game. "Ranger missed his check-in twice in a row." He rubbed the back of his neck and refused to meet my gaze. "He's missing, Beautiful."

All of my breath rushed out of me with a whoosh and spots danced in front of my eyes as I struggled with the implications of what Les had just said. Jesus. It was a good thing I was sitting.

Ranger had gone into the wind a lot over the years, and though he'd never said anything, I wasn't a complete idiot. Every mission had been dangerous and he'd come back a few times with a new hole or scar. But he'd always come back. I took a deep breath and embraced my good friend, Denial.

"You said missing. He's not dead, and someone's looking for him, right?"

Tank shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. "Bombshell….."

"Dammit, Tank. If you can't show me a body right now, all I want to hear is that you're heading up the search party," I ground out. I swallowed, hard, around the lump in my throat. "Because if you tell me that you're going to just leave him for dead in some jungle…"

Tank narrowed his eyes at me. "What did he tell you?"

I rolled my eyes. "As if he'd tell me anything important." I lowered my voice to mimic Ranger's. "Going out of town, Babe. Call Tank if you need anything." Les snorted, but Tank just regarded me impassively, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm not an idiot," I repeated out loud. "He wasn't wearing that desert camouflage stuff – and he was speaking Spanish more than usual, so that means South America, right?" Or at least somewhere south. When he'd shown up in my room in the middle of the night over a month ago, I should have known that that something serious was up. He hadn't visited me in months, on account of me and Morelli being mostly on at the time. I hadn't been up for examining his motives at three in the morning, so I'd instead made room for him in bed and fallen back to sleep to the sound of him whispering to me Spanish. He was gone when I'd woken up in the morning, and now, all these weeks later they were telling me that he might never sneak into my bedroom ever again?

"Jesus, Steph." Tank shook his head. "Why you ain't working for the CIA…."

I cut him off. "So he's just missing?"

"Beautiful has a point." Les broke in. "It was an automated email…"

"Sent because he wasn't around to turn it off," Tank growled. "Idiot."

"Asshole."

I kicked the side of Tank's desk before it could get any uglier. "He. Is. Not. Dead." Yet. I blinked back the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. Jesus, I was being such a girl, but as the minutes ticked by, I knew that he couldn't be dead. I couldn't handle it if he were.

Les came up behind me and hugged me awkwardly as I sat in Tank's guest chair. "Shh.. No, we're not giving up," He promised. "All of us are using every contact we have to find him. We'll get answers, soon."

"Great!" I said brightly, forcing a smile. "So I'll just hang around here, until then."

Tank sighed for maybe the twentieth time that night. Honestly, even though he was being a pessimistic ass, I was a little worried about him. Before that moment, if you'd asked me to describe Tank in three words or less, I would have said: big, silent, unflappable. I'd never seen Tank so worried, or heard him use so many words at once before.

"And no, I'm not going into the wind, either."

Tank let out a frustrated grunt and reached into his desk for a sealed envelope. "Read this. Maybe Ric can talk some sense into you."

I slit the envelope with the edge of my thumbnail and pulled out the single sheet of paper. There, in four lines of Ranger's neat, spiky handwriting was everything I'd ever wanted to hear - though I'd never admit it to anyone but myself. However, at that exact moment his words just left me shaking with suppressed anger.

"Thanks. That helps a lot." I carefully folded the letter and tucked it in the inside pocket of my purse. I finally met Tank and Lester's inquisitive gazes. "Nope. I'm still not going anywhere, but when I see Ranger, I'm going to kick his ass."

R&S~R&S~R&S

There wasn't a lot I could do, so I spent what was left of the night dozing on the couch in Tank's office. Not that I got a lot of sleeping done. I was awakened for the final time when Lester came bounding into the room.

"Escobar came through!"

"Escobar would sell his own sister," Tank growled.

"Well, yeah," Les agreed. "But he has a line on a John Doe brought into surgery in some pissant town near Ric's last known location." He shrugged. "He's still in surgery, but Escobar swears it's Ric."

I let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding. "Great! So the American embassy can take it from here, right?"

"Uh, not exactly, Beautiful." Les wouldn't quite meet my eyes. "The US government disavows any knowledge, yadda, yadda, yadda..."

I huffed out a breath. "But you can go, right? To the hospital, I mean."

Les shifted uncomfortably. "None of my covers are related to any of Ric's cover identities, and he never travels under his own name." OK. That made absolutely no sense to me, but I had a feeling that the standard RangeMan medical power of attorney form wouldn't help us any.

I turned toward Tank and he just shrugged. "What, you think I could pass for Ranger's brother or somethin'?"

On some level I knew they'd never actually leave Ranger stranded, but lack of sleep and worry shredded the last of my control. "Well, you'd better figure something out, because if you don't, I will rain fury down on your heads. You'll never date again in this town, Les," I hissed. I turned to Tank. "And I'll tell Lula that you miss her and want another chance. She just told me her biological clock is ticking again."

They both shuddered. Tank had had a brief, but disastrous relationship with my friend and sometime wheelman, Lula, a while back. Judging by the look of sheer terror in his eyes, I had a feeling that he never, ever, wanted to go there again.

Les held up his hands, placatingly. "Whoa, no need to get all nasty, Steph. I never said that we weren't going after him. In fact…" He glanced briefly at the fancy black watch on his wrist. "The plane will be ready whenever we are."

I huffed out a breath. "That's great, but you just told me that you can't go after Ranger." Jesus, did he think I was deaf or something?

Les smiled slightly. "You're right, Beautiful. _I _can't talk my way into Ric's hospital room, but Stephanie Pardo can."

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><p>AN: Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. We'll learn more about Les's plan and Stephanie Pardo soon.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

Chapter 3: Stephanie Pardo to the rescue

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><p><em>Previously: <em>

_I huffed out a breath. "That's great, but you just told me that you can't go after Ranger." Jesus, did he think I was deaf or something?_

_Les smiled slightly. "You're right, Beautiful. I can't talk my way into Ric's hospital room, but Stephanie Pardo can."_

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><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

"Who is Stephanie Pardo?" I asked when my mind cleared enough for speech. I had a suspicion, but I was holding out hope that I'd misheard him.

Les' lips twitched. "She's Marc Pardo's wife."

Nope, I'd heard him right. Marc Pardo was one of Ranger's main aliases. "But Ranger doesn't do stupid things like marriage." Or even committed relationships.

Les shook his head. "Maybe not, but Marc Pardo does."

I sat back down, hard, as spots began to dance before my eyes. "So what does Stephanie Pardo have to do with me?" Again, I had a sneaking suspicion, but I wanted him to spell it out for me, for once.

When neither Les nor Tank would meet my eyes, I just threw my hands in the air. "OK – my decoder ring is in the shop, but I'm guessing you're trying to tell me that I'm fake married to one of Ranger's aliases."

Les chuckled. "You could say that." He looked to Tank. "How many his and her cover ID's do we have in the safe for Ric and Steph?"

Tank rolled his eyes. "Four at last count. But you'd better be rethinking whatever fool plan you're hatching if you don't want Ranger to pack you off to a 'Stan."

I shook off the implication that I was married to Ranger multiple times – at least on paper – and instead focused on the real issue at hand. "If we don't follow Les' plan, what're the chances Ranger will even be here to kick his ass?"

When neither of them answered, I toed on my shoes and stood to my full height. "Let's go, then. You can explain the plan on the way to the airport."

R&S~R&S~R&S

If I'd known that simply stating what I wanted would actually work with Ranger's men, I would've tried it a long time ago. Less than fifteen minutes after I'd made my pronouncement in Tank's office, Les, Manny, Bobby, and I were in a SUV headed toward Trenton Mercer airport. The cargo area of the Explorer was loaded down with several boxes of medical supplies and Stephanie Pardo's luggage.

Michelle Miller's bug-out bag had been a black canvas duffel, but apparently Stephanie Pardo needed matching designer luggage to go into the wind. Sadly, Stephanie Plum still used her grandparents' ancient Samsonite for her trips to Jersey Shore.

I tucked Stephanie Pardo's passport into her Prada bag (no genuine fakes for Ranger's pretend wife) and turned toward Les, who was in the backseat with me. "So what's the plan?"

Les cut his eyes toward me. "You sure your family and Morelli are going to be OK with you disappearing like this?" When I glared at him, he just leaned back and regarded me silently.

_"__Jesus."_ I shook my head at his single raised eyebrow. "Do all of you learn to do that eyebrow thing in the Army?" When he just smirked, I sighed. "Mom and Grandma are visiting some Mazur cousins in Brooklyn and Morelli doesn't have a say in anything I do. Not anymore."

Les shrugged. "Not my business, but he'll be pissed when you and he make up again."

"So the plan?" Les' casual dismissal hurt, but since Morelli and I had been off and on so often, I guess I couldn't really blame him. The truth was, Joe and I were over for good the minute he decided to take Maria Bertolli out to dinner at Rossini's, instead of me, on my birthday. The saddest part of our breakup is that I wasn't all that torn up about it; she fit with Joe in ways I'd never wanted to. Maria taught third grade, made her own sauce from scratch, and had kept the same car for five years and counting. I was pretty sure I'd never want kids, I've been known to burn microwave dinners, and though I could do without the frequent car explosions, at least my life was never boring. But I wasn't about to admit all that to Les. He could hear about it from the grapevine like everyone else.

Les smiled, completely oblivious to my inner dialog. "Nothing to it, Beautiful. We get to the hospital, you sign him out, and we haul ass back to the States."

I had a feeling the plan really wasn't that simple, but before I could dig for more details, we pulled up to a sleek, black jet. "For real?" I said as we got out of the SUV. "RangeMan has a jet?"

Manny chuckled as he hefted both of my bags. "Nah, Wifey. That'd be wasteful. Gotta think of our carbon footprint."

"You're all nuts," I muttered as I followed them up the aircraft's stairs. "And you can't call me that anymore, I only pretend-marry one guy at a time," I told him loftily. When he pouted, I just batted my eyelashes at him. "Tell you what, next time you get shot, I'll be your fake wife again," I said sweetly, even as I silently hoped that I'd never have to make good on my promise. I figured with Ranger missing, I'd pretty much met my quota of emergency situations for the next decade.

It turned out that the plane was owned by an old Army buddy of the guys who operated a charter service out of Boston. Since even I knew that Boston was an hour or two away by air, I started to realize that maybe I'd been played.

"You were planning this all along. Operation Omega my ass. He's probably not even missing," I grumbled, accusingly.

"We weren't playing you, Beautiful. Tank was carrying out Ric's instructions to the letter," Les told me, his expression strangely sober for once. "But I'll admit that we both figured you wouldn't follow them, anyway, so I came up with plan B on the fly."

Dawn was still a couple of hours away as we took off, and once we were in the air and headed South, Les finally answered all of my questions.

Ranger really was missing, and he'd left specific orders in case of such an event: Tank and Silvio in Miami were in charge, and RangeMan was to go into crisis mode until they were sure no one was going to attack. I was supposed to go underground until Tank gave the all clear, and under no circumstances was anyone to launch a rescue party. I figured us following two out of four of his instructions was pretty good. Besides, if Ranger really was out of it in some jungle hospital somewhere, it wasn't like he could whine about it. By the time we'd fleshed out Les' plan a little more and I'd changed into Stephanie Pardo's clothes, we were making our final approach into San Jeronimo, Colombia.

"I guess I can't ask what Ranger was doing here," I said as I peered over Manny's shoulder. Even with the map app on full zoom, I was hard-pressed to separate the town from the surrounding jungle.

Bobby shook his head. "Nope, but it's just a stone's throw from Medellin, if that gives you any ideas."

It gave me all sorts of ideas, and I was about to ask even more questions when Les shoved a small bundle into my hands. The baby Glock and thigh harness got the stink eye from me, but the velvet jewelry bag had me opening my mouth in shock. "Seriously, aren't you all taking this cover stuff a little too far?" I groaned as I took out the distinctive blue box. "Please tell me this is a fake." I was already wearing a designer suit that was worth more than my last two cars combined, and a set of Agent Provocateur underwear that was so naughty I hoped to God Ella hadn't bought it. I didn't need a fabulously beautiful ring that I'd probably lose at the first opportunity.

Les shrugged. "Don't know, and don't care. It was in Ric's safe." Since I didn't even want to guess why Ranger had an engagement and wedding ring set hanging around in the first place, I just shoved the rings onto the appropriate finger.

"I can help you slip into that, Steph!" Les sang out, as I stalked to the back of the plane with the gun and harness. Needless to say, I flipped him off.

We landed just before 11 AM, and it was already climbing toward ninety degrees. Since it was November and already snowing in Trenton, I would've loved the trip if Ranger wasn't MIA.

Les' contact was waiting for us with an ancient ambulance. It kind of reminded me of the one from Ghost Busters. To say that Pablo Escobar was slightly creepy was like saying that my Cousin Vinnie was just a little bit of a pervert.

"Now who is this lovely lady?" he asked as he pressed a kiss onto the inside of my wrist.

"None of your business," Les growled. Manny and Bobby flanked me, guns drawn, and I took advantage of the distraction to wipe my hand against my skirt. I could still feel Escobar's lips on my skin, and it definitely wasn't in a good way.

Escobar cast a nervous glance at the guy's weapons and backed away with his hands in air. "I mean no disrespect. We just don't often get such beautiful visitors," he told me in his heavily accented English.

When I didn't answer he pulled out a slip of paper and turned toward Les. "Your boy is in, how you say? Stable condition. I have the coordinates of the clinic he was taken to."

Les glared at him some more before passing him a thick envelope. When the exchange was complete, Les moved so fast he was practically a blur. The next thing I knew, my happy-go-lucky friend had Escobar in a headlock and a gun to his head. "Thank you for your assistance," he said in a voice so cold it sent shivers down my spine. "I trust that no one else has this information?" When Escobar just nodded, Les released him and Manny and Bobby hustled me toward the waiting vehicle.

If Les' sudden personality change hadn't clued me into the fact that we weren't in Trenton anymore, the next few minutes certainly did.

"Here's the Marc Pardo ID, and a copy of your marriage license," Bobby told me as he handed over a manila envelope. Manny was driving, and Bobby and I were wedged into the narrow jump seats in the rear. "Did you get a chance to memorize your background information?"

"Sure. I'm thirty-two, and I met Marc Pardo three years ago at a diner I was waitressing at in Staten Island. I'm a Scorpio and I enjoy yoga and long walks in the rain," I said with a deadpan expression.

Bobby and Manny snorted, but Les whirled around to face me. "This is not a fucking joke," he growled. His eyes softened slightly at my stricken expression. "Ric's already going to ship us off to Siberia for this, so please help us keep you from getting killed, OK?" When I nodded slightly, he sighed and continued. "Just remember, you're the wife of a wealthy businessman, and we're just your body guards. Not your buddies."

"Right. I strut in like a rich bitch and demand that they release him into Bobby's care, ASAP," I told him, repeating the bare bones of our plan. Its success hinged on us moving quickly, and the nursing staff not questioning us too closely. We had a few more money-filled envelopes to ensure that they didn't. Escobar had assured us that Ranger was still listed as a John Doe, which was a good thing since I wasn't married to his current cover identity. Most of all, our plan depended upon no one else knowing where to find Ranger, but after meeting Escobar, I wasn't too confident about that.

When we pulled up to the small hospital on the outskirts of town, my Spidey senses went haywire.

"Uh, Les? Are you sure we can trust your contact?" The hospital entrance was mostly deserted, but the enormous guy lounging against the side of the building didn't look like any nurse I'd ever seen. Even in New Jersey, medical professionals didn't carry or wear flak vests.

Les' jaw tightened. "Nope, I don't think we can." He tucked his spare gun into his waistband and slid out of the ambulance's cab. "Get Steph inside, and I'll see about our friend over there."

R&S~R&S~R&S

We were in luck, and the gorilla outside hadn't brought any friends with him. With Bobby and Manny at my back, I squared my shoulders and marched toward the reception desk.

"I'm here to see one of your patients," I told the lone nurse behind the counter. When she just stared at me blankly, Manny stepped forward to translate. Her eyes widened when I produced the Marc and Stephanie Pardo IDs and demanded to see him, but after a little more sweet-talking from Manny, another nurse was leading us toward the back while Bobby started the process of getting Ranger signed out.

The hospital was small but clean looking and I felt something loosening inside of me as a low-level tingling settled along the back of my neck. _Ranger was here, somewhere, and he was alive._ We passed one last empty room, and there he was. I was even aware that I'd moved when I found myself at his bedside. His skin was a sickly gray against the white hospital linens, and his upper body was swathed in bandages.

"Is this a good sign?" I asked Manny as I looked down at the single tube that ran from an IV bag to his arm. He wasn't on a ventilator or anything, but who knew if that was because he didn't need it or if the hospital didn't have that kind of equipment.

"I don't have a freaking clue," Manny murmured. "But that little monitor over there says he has a pulse."

I didn't have to be a doctor to see that, or to feel the warmth of his breath when I brushed my lips lightly across his cheek. I pressed a final kiss to his forehead and was ridiculously relieved when his eyelids fluttered.

"Hey," I said softly when sleepy brown eyes met mine.

He blinked twice and then his lips lifted into that almost smile that I loved. "Babe."

I went to squeeze his hand again, but he was out like a light. It probably was for the best because Les came barreling into the room a few seconds later, with Bobby at his heels.

"No time to stand around, Beautiful. We've got company."

* * *

><p>AN: Next up: How they handle the company and we hear from Ranger. I know designer outfits and rings from Tiffany's aren't really part of Stephanie Plum's lifestyle, but I figured they were part of Stephanie Pardo's. I googled expensive lingerie and figured that if Ranger actually shopped for underwear, he would pick up some of Agent Provocateur's line.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

AN: FUBAR = Military term meaning: f*cked up beyond all recognition.

ASAFP = As soon as f*cking possible

_Cojones = balls_

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Bad Company<p>

* * *

><p><em>Previously:<em>

_"__Hey," I said softly when sleepy brown eyes met mine. _

_He blinked twice and then his lips lifted into that almost smile that I loved. "Babe."_

_I went to squeeze his hand again, but he was out like a light. It probably was for the best because Les came barreling into the room a few seconds later, with Bobby at his heels._

_"__No time to stand around, Beautiful. We've got company."_

* * *

><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

"Wait!" I shrieked when Bobby went to unhook Ranger from the IV and monitors. "Aren't you supposed to wait for the doctor or nurses to do that?"

He shot me and incredulous look and I realized just how ridiculous I sounded. "Right. We don't need no stinking rules."

I jumped back to allow him and Manny to move the gurney he'd brought into place and joined Les at the door. "What's the situation?"

"FUBAR." Les bent and drew a small pistol and a knife from his right boot. "Our friend out front must've called his friends. I counted four. Two headed toward the registration desk, one covering each door."

"Shit!" I hissed, casting a nervous glance back at the bed. Bobby had Ranger completely unhooked and they were transferring him to the gurney for transport. That said, I wasn't sure how we'd get out of here if we were surrounded. "Plan?"

"Nothin' to it." Les shot me a tense smile. "When you start hearing a bunch of noise out front, move out." He handed me a few strange looking canisters that he'd seemingly produced from nowhere. "Flash and smoke grenades. Cover their rear," he told me as he slipped out of the door.

If there was ever a time I wanted to click my heels and wish myself back home, this was one of them. I spend most of my time trying to avoid armed confrontation, and I definitely wasn't dressed for storming anything, unless it was the Macy's semi-annual sale. Stephanie Pardo's wardrobe ran to silk skirt suits and high-heeled boots, not my usual work uniform of jeans and shit kickers. But that said, if Les needed me to figure out how to cover Ranger and the boys, I'd do it. I'd probably screw it up, but that's another story.

I tossed Manny a couple of the smoke bombs and moved aside so that he and Bobby could get in position. I'd just reached under my skirt to grab the stun gun and Glock I'd hidden there when we heard the first yells and an explosion.

Manny took point and Bobby started to push Ranger's gurney out the door.

"Stay low and run like Hell, Bomber," Bobby told me as he grabbed a clipboard from a hook next to the door.

When they were out of the door, I followed, and stepped out into chaos. Someone had pulled the fire alarm at some point, but I still could hear screams over the shriek of the alarm. Manny and Bobby were to the first turn in the hallway by then, and I ran to follow.

Smoke hung in the hallway, making my eyes water as I followed closely on the boys' heels. We were almost to the main hallway when I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Maybe it was the impression of gleaming metal in the man's hand, but I didn't stop to think. I just pulled the tab on the one canister I'd kept and I threw it.

I shrieked and covered my eyes against the brief burst of light, even as I turned and ran after the gurney. I heard the pop of gunfire, but I kept running, only to skid into a nurse. My Spanish only extends to a couple of curse words and ordering from the Taco Bell menu, but I didn't need to be bilingual to know that she was pissed and trying to detain me. I pressed the stun gun to her arm, and prayed like Hell that I'd remembered to charge it. I must've, because she dropped to the floor with a squeak.

There was more gunfire, but Bobby and Manny were through the front door, so I put my head down and headed toward freedom. I was just feet from the door when I felt a hand clamp down on my arm.

"Son of a bitch!" I shrieked, when I turned and saw who'd grabbed me.

"You thought you could snub me, fancy bitch" Escobar hissed as he drew me closer to him.

His breath stank of stale beer and onions, and his leer was twice as creepy close up. I went to stun him, but he knocked the taser out of my hand. His fingers dug painfully into my arm, and I panicked.

Luckily, my panic response is tied directly to my right knee. I shoved it into his crotch as hard as I could.

"Bitch!" He doubled over, but his grip loosened enough for me to pull back so I could grab for the gun I'd stashed in my waistband. My hand came up empty, so I swung my purse at his head.

Escobar roared with rage and lunged for me, but before he could make contact, he jerked back. My ears rang with the sound of gunfire and a crimson stain bloomed on his shoulder.

"Let's go!" Manny half carried me through the front door and moments later, we were tumbling into the rear door of the ambulance.

I slumped against the sidewall of the ambulance and struggled to catch my breath. "Did we make it?"

Manny crawled past me and started to climb over into the cab. "You're lethal with that purse," he chuckled. "But remind me to get you into the gun range when we get back home."

"I might just let you," I wheezed. I felt something dig into the small of my back and winced as I pulled my gun free. "Now it shows up," I muttered. We hit a pothole and I fell forward onto my hands. Since I was already on the move, I gingerly made my way over to where Bobby was working on Ranger.

"Everything OK?"

"Yup. No new holes in anybody, and Les is still a sucky driver," Bobby told me when we swerved and hit another pothole.

I gently brushed a stray lock of hair back from Rangers face and was shocked at how hot he was. "He's burning up!"

Bobby nodded and continued prepping a syringe. "Antibiotics must've been optional at that clinic," he muttered as he swabbed Ranger's shoulder and administered the shot. When Ranger moaned and began to move restlessly, Bobby grabbed another, pre-filled syringe from his bag. "Hopefully that'll knock him out until we get in the air," he told me as he pushed the plunger home.

Of course, the second he said that, everything went pear-shaped. The ambulance swerved again and I heard the distinctive ping of a bullet hitting the side of our vehicle. I scrambled toward the front just in time to watch Les fire out of the window.

"Your contact sold us out!" I yelled.

"Not now, Beautiful," he snarled as he floored the accelerator. We shot forward, but I wasn't fool enough to think we could outrun anything in a forty year-old junk heap. I ducked so Manny could crawl over the divider again.

"Change places with me and talk to whoever answers this!"

I pressed the cellphone he'd handed me to my ear and climbed into the front passenger seat. After a couple more rings, the distinctive Texas drawl of our pilot came over the line.

"Someone better be bleedin'," Tom "Eagle" Landry snarled. I couldn't be sure, but I could've sworn I heard gunfire over the phone line.

"This is Steph," I began. I craned my neck so I could peer into Les' side view mirror. "We're being followed. One truck."

"Two!" Les shouted. I whipped my head around to the front and squeaked when I saw another SUV come barreling toward us.

"Two!" I repeated. Les swung the wheel hard to the left and I had to scrabble for a handhold as we skidded onto a side road.

"We got company, too," Tom growled. "Look, if you ain't pulling up to the airfield now, we gotta bug out."

"No!" I turned to Les. "He says they're in trouble too. They're leaving!"

"Tell him not to go too far," Les snarled as he accelerated again. I relayed the information to Tom and ended the call. I was just about to peek out of the window again when my window exploded.

I shrieked and ducked, and stifled another shriek when Les grabbed my arm. "Hand me that bag on the floorboard and then get over here and steer."

The next couple of minutes passed in a terror-fueled blur. I kept us more or less on the road as Les lobbed what looked suspiciously like grenades out of the window. They probably really were, because the lead SUV was suddenly engulfed in flames. Manny flung the rear door partially open and picked off the second truck following us. I guess the private jet really was worth the extra expense, because I figured there was no way the guys could've gotten grenades and a rocket launcher through security if we'd flown commercial.

When Les retook the wheel, I slumped into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief. My jaw ached from clenching it and my stomach was heaving, but I sternly told myself to save the nervous breakdown for later.

"What's plan B?" I asked.

Les sighed and fumbled for the GPS app in his Sat phone. "I've got another contact a little ways from here."

I stared at him with wide eyes. "Do you think we can trust this one?"

Les shrugged. "Maybe. I didn't sleep with _her_ sister."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Les' other friend, a woman named Maria, didn't set off my spidey senses like Escobar had. She was about my age, a few inches shorter, and even though she was eyeing Les like he was big piece of triple chocolate cake, she still took the time to find us clean towels and a change of sheets for the guest bed. When she wandered off to fix us some food, I decided that she was my new best friend.

Manny and Les disappeared shortly after we'd arrived to dump the ambulance and 'procure alternate transportation.' Since I had a feeling that it wouldn't involve a trip down to the local car lot and an exchange of funds, I didn't ask any questions. Instead, Bobby and I stayed back so we could settle Ranger into Maria's spare bedroom.

"Is he going to be OK?" I asked as I dabbed at Ranger's neck and chest with a damp washcloth. He was still way too hot. I looked up at Bobby with narrowed eyes. "And if you say he's had worse, so help me God…"

"He has had worse," Bobby told me matter-of-factly. He carefully removed the last bandage and examined the wound. "The bullet to the shoulder went through and through, and whoever dug the slug out of his thigh knew what they were doing." He consulted the medical chart he'd taken from the clinic. "Probably the only reason he isn't already up and giving us hell is from the blood loss and that bump on the back of his head. No telling how long it was before someone found him."

I silently promised myself I'd light a candle or something the next time I saw a church. Bobby didn't have to tell me that we were damn lucky that whoever had been after him hadn't found him first. Bobby finished changing the bandages and checked the IV line he'd set up as soon as we'd arrived at Maria's. "All we can do right now is keep pushing the fluids and antibiotics."

After that, we just sat and watched Ranger sleep. Maria came and brought us some tiny empanadas and bits of fried dough that were probably really good, but I was still so worried about Ranger that I barely tasted them. As the minutes ticked by, the silence in the room became almost oppressive. I was actually glad when Bobby let out a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Hey, why don't you find somewhere to crash? I'll watch him."

He looked uncertain. "You sure about that? He's going to be really pissed whenever he wakes up, which shouldn't be long, now."

"Yeah," I sighed. We'd pretty much ignored every one of Ranger's orders in coming after him like this, but I'd do it all over again. "But who'd you rather have him yell at, you or me?"

Bobby smiled slightly. "You know he'll be glad to see you, right?"

I shrugged. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't, but I knew that Ranger wouldn't actually hurt me or be _too_ pissed.

Bobby yawned and stretched again. "Since you're offering, it's going on forty-eight hours since I've even closed my eyes."

After Bobby left, I pulled my chair a little closer to the bedside and threaded our fingers together. I'd never seen him asleep before, and it was a revelation. He looked younger, somehow, and without his usual iron-clad control in place, I imagined that I could even tell what he was dreaming about if I stared long enough. The shadows in the room gradually lengthened, but I still sat there in the gathering dusk. And finally, just before dinner time, his fingers tightened around mine and his eyelids finally fluttered open.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Ranger's POV

It was quiet when I came to, but my training kicked in and I forced myself to lie there, eyes closed, and catalog my surroundings. My shoulder, head and leg throbbed like a bitch, so I knew that the vague memory of the ambush wasn't just a bad dream. I dragged in a slightly deeper breath, and was relieved when my ribs didn't protest the movement. Cracked ribs hurt like Hell.

I flexed my left hand minutely and could feel the drag of an IV line, but the room didn't smell of antiseptic and the bed was too soft for me to be in a hospital. And as I extended my senses outward, I became aware of a small, soft hand clutching my other hand. The faint scent of vanilla and a very familiar perfume, together with the almost electric tingle of awareness that settled along my spine, finally had me opening my eyes. "Babe."

My voice sounded weak and raspy even to my own ears, but when she started to move away from me, I tightened my grip on her fingers. "Stay." I could worry about the mission and my injuries later, but for now, I just wanted to look into her beautiful blue eyes.

She made an impatient sound in the back of her throat and tugged her hand free. "Not going anywhere, but you sound like you need a drink." She stuck a straw into bottle of water and held it to my lips. "Bobby said you could have a sip whenever you woke up."

Well, that answered one of my questions. I still wasn't sure where we were or why she was here, but at least my men were with her. I took another sip and then let my head fall back against the pillows. My lips were dry and cracked and it still hurt to form words. "Where are we?"

"Colombia somewhere?" Her brow furrowed in that adorable way that I loved, and if I were feeling less shitty, I would've had to fight not to laugh. "I can't pronounce the name of the town, but it's maybe an hour away from San Jeronimo, where we found you."

I closed my eyes briefly and tried to gather my thoughts. Maybe we were out of immediate danger, then, but I'd feel better if we were on the move ASAFP. When Steph went to move again, I reached up and snagged her wrist.

"I need to get Bobby to check you out," she complained. "Les and Manny probably want to see you, too."

"I'm fine." I didn't have a MD after my name, but I'd once humped it through thirty miles of jungle with worse injuries and Tank on my back. "What I want to know, is why you are here?"

I felt like a bastard when a look of hurt that flashed across face, but I should've remembered that my Babe was made of sterner stuff. The hurt and confusion gave away almost immediately to narrowed eyes and pure Jersey attitude.

"What I want to know is why you ever thought I wouldn't be?" Her lips drew into a tight hard line. "Operation Omega, my ass," she muttered under her breath.

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Babe…"

"Don't Babe me, Ranger. You wanted us to leave you for dead!"

I winced when her eyes filled with tears. It'd seemed like a good plan when Tank and I had set it up years ago, but seeing how upset she was, maybe I should've re-thought some of it. When her lower lip started to quiver slightly, I couldn't take it anymore. I could be pissed, later, when she was back in Trenton where she belonged.

"Babe," I whispered, squeezing her hand gently. "It's good to see you, but I am wondering what kind of idiotic plan Les talked you into."

Her gaze skittered away from mine and finally settled on our joined hands. "It was more like we talked each other into it." Her left hand twisted in mine, and I noticed for the first time the foreign feel of metal and stones on her left ring finger – a finger that had been completely bare the last time I'd seen her. I dragged her hand up to my eye level and had to bite back an exclamation.

_How in the Hell had Lester found that ring? _I'd had it and its matching wedding band made in a fit of stupidity shortly after Stiva had taken her a few years ago, but then I'd seen reason and locked it up tight in my personal safe.

"When we got word you were in the hospital, we figured it'd be easier if you had a wife to sign you out." Her lips quirked into a half grin. "It's just a prop – I promise I didn't drag you to a priest when you were out of it."

A custom-made three carat diamond solitaire was hardly just a prop, but I had to admit it looked good on her. In another life, I would've put it on her finger myself. I forced my gaze away from her hand and instead took in her whole appearance. I recognized that outfit… "Stephanie Pardo?"

"Yep. You needed a fake wife and I was happy to help out." She bit her lip, nervously. "I hope you don't mind that we raided Ella's special room. I mean, the shoes and purse alone cost about three month's rent, and I wasn't sure, but Les said it was OK."

_Dios_, she was cute when she babbled. "Relax, Babe. I don't mind." I'd bought every stitch of clothing in that closet for her; I'd just never had the _cojones_ to give them to her. I let my lips spread into a slow, lazy grin. "Especially if you tell me you're wearing the underwear, too." I'd had more than one sweaty fantasy imagining her in those sheer, lacy thongs and bras, and if I wasn't feeling like five kinds of hell, I'd be doing my best to find out for myself just what she was wearing under all that navy blue silk. She ducked her head to hide the blush that spread over her cheeks, and just like that I knew. She was wearing one of the really naughty sets.

"Behave yourself," she scolded as she tugged her hand free and stood. "Bobby's going to have my head for not calling him sooner as it is."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

Chapter 5: Don't play me, Batman

* * *

><p><em>Previously:<em>

_Dios, she was cute when she babbled. "Relax, Babe. I don't mind." I'd bought every stitch of clothing in that closet for her; I'd just never had the cojones to give them to her. I let my lips spread into a slow, lazy grin. "Especially if you tell me you're wearing the underwear, too." I'd had more than one sweaty fantasy imagining her in those sheer, lacy thongs and bras, and if I wasn't feeling like five kinds of hell, I'd be doing my best to find out for myself just what she was wearing under all that navy blue silk. She ducked her head to hide the blush that spread over her cheeks, and just like that I knew. She was wearing one of the really naughty sets. _

_"__Behave yourself," she scolded as she tugged her hand free and stood. "Bobby's going to have my head for not calling him sooner as it is."_

* * *

><p>Ranger's POV<p>

I listened in disbelief as Les and Bobby briefed me on everything that'd happened since they'd left Trenton with Steph that morning. "You're fucking kidding me," I growled. Had I actually slept through a firefight? According to Les, Babe had been impressive. As much as the idea of her steering a POS ambulance down a road that was barely more than a cattle trail while bullets flew scared the living crap out of me, I would've loved to see her in action.

Bobby shrugged as he flashed a light in first one eye and then the other. I winced, but didn't move away. "That clinic may have been stuck in the 1950's, but they didn't skimp on the morphine."

"No more drugs," I growled. Brown knew I hated the way they made me feel, and I needed a clear head if we were going to get out of here.

Brown shot me a dirty look. "You haven't had anything but fluids and antibiotics since we got here." He finished taking my pulse and dropped my arm. "Heart rate's good and your temp is almost back to normal. Pupils are normal and reactive. You'll be back to your usual charming self before you know it."

I flipped him off and turned to Santos. "What the fuck were you thinking, bringing her down here?"

He rolled his eyes in a move so reminiscent of Stephanie that I briefly regretted ever introducing them. "You ever try to talk her out of something?"

He had a point, but I knew _mi_ _primo_ well and figured he hadn't tried too hard. The hare-brained plan he'd just described to me had his fingerprints all over it, not hers. "I'll deal with you later," I growled. First, we have to figure out how to get out of this mess.

The door swung open at that moment, and Steph poked her head in. "OK if we come in?" I nodded, briefly, and she and Manny brought in a couple of trays of food. I don't normally care what I eat, but the smell of the soup she sat on the bedside table made my mouth water. Which was understandable, since it'd been a couple of days since I'd last eaten.

As we all sat around and ate, we pieced together the events of the last couple of days and hammered out an action plan.

"So your cover wasn't blown during your mission." Les whipped out his phone and began to tap on the screen. "I'll let Tank know he can stand down."

"Belay that order." We were probably safe from retaliation, but I wasn't ready to make that call, yet. Truth was, I'd had some spectacularly bad luck. I'd just wrapped up my job for the DEA, which was a relatively straightforward surveillance gig, and decided to stop in San Jeronimo for a beer and a decent meal on my way to my extraction point on the Caribbean coast.

"Wait a minute," Babe said slowly. "You're in that bed because some pissed off husband mistook you for Les?"

Les squirmed uncomfortably, but took up the story. "Not exactly." When we all just smirked at him, he huffed out an exasperated breath. "I was down here on a mission about a year ago, and if I'd known one of the cartels I'd interacted with had moved into San Jeronimo, I would've told you, Ric."

"Ookay." Stephanie blinked and looked from me to my Sandy-haired cousin and back. "I still don't get how they mixed you up."

Les tugged on his collar, uncomfortably. "The cover identity I was using had dark hair. Ric and I _are_ cousins," he reminded her.

Steph regarded him narrowly and shook her head, her lips quirking in a mischievous grin. "I still don't see it. Ranger's better looking."

I'd never admit it, but her words sent a frisson of pure male pride shooting through me. Les and I were first cousins, and except for his eye color and tendency to bleach his hair lighter, we really did have similar features and builds. However, women usually preferred his charm and easy personality. The fact that Stephanie obviously favored me over my cousin made me want to order my men out of the room so I could show her just how her statement affected me.

"I'm hurt, Beautiful! I'm much more popular with the ladies than that ugly bastard over there," Les said, echoing my thoughts.

"That's just because you're a man-whore," she snarked back.

But before their exchange could deteriorate further, Manny broke in. "If I'm reading the situation correctly, Ranger's mission was successful and there's nothing keeping us here, right?"

I nodded. "Barrilles and company are probably still looking for me, but I'm not aware of any connection to them and the cartel I was investigating."

"I don't think so," Les said hesitantly. "I could get Silvio to make some discreet enquiries, but we should be good to go if we switch covers again."

"Right…" Steph murmured. "I used the Pardo cover at the hospital." She shot me a panicked look. "Does that mean you can't use it anymore?"

I smiled and shook my head. _Dios_, I loved how she caught on to things so quickly. "Marc Pardo is my primary stateside cover. It's probably OK." I exchanged a quick glance with Les and he nodded, confirming that he'd brought more than one set of IDs for me and Steph.

"So, we grab a few hours of sleep and move out. Santos, take the first watch," I said, reiterating our plan. We'd leave a few hours before dawn and if things went well, we'd make it to the coast by breakfast time. I didn't see a reason not to use my original extraction plan. I nodded to each of my men, and they began to clear out.

"Wait! Should you even be moving yet?"

I bit back a sigh – I loved Stephanie, but sometimes I really wished I could just order her around like I did my men. "I'm fine, Babe."

Her lips compressed into a thin line, but before she could argue, Brown broke in.

"He needs to get moving, or everything will seize up, Bomber. I'll get him fitted with crutches in a couple of minutes."

She regarded us suspiciously for several long moments. "Fine, but I'll be watching both of you," she grumbled.

When she left, I let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, man. I owe you one." Maybe I wouldn't even call him to the mats for disobeying orders when we got back. Santos wouldn't get the same consideration, though.

Brown tossed me a set of sweats. "Cover your ass, we don't need to see any of that."

I flipped him off, but he just grunted and grabbed a sling and collapsible crutch from one of his duffels. "You'd better not prove me wrong." He shook his head, ruefully. "That is one fine woman, but I do not want her pissed at me."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

R&S~R&S~R&S

After making a few trips up and down the hallway, I finally tossed the crutch aside and collapsed onto the bed. Les' friend had been a lot nicer than his usual choice of companions, and I made a mental note to make sure she was well-compensated for her trouble. So far, none of Hector Barrilles' men had found the village we were hiding out in, but I'd feel better if we were on our way as soon as possible. It was safer for everyone involved.

Babe came in a few minutes later, dressed in a man's T-shirt and I had to suppress a growl of irritation. "I know that wasn't in your bug-out bag." Fucking Santos, giving her his shirt.

"Nope, but it was in yours." She blushed and held up a plain black duffel that I recognized. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing it – you have others."

I bit back a groan at the thought of her in my clothing, and instead patted the other side of the bed. "Get in, Babe, morning's coming awful fast."

"I don't know…" She trailed off and looked uncertainly toward the pile of extra pillows and blankets our hostess had left her. "I probably shouldn't. I move around a lot…"

I dragged down the covers on her side. There was no way my woman was going to sleep on the floor when I could offer her better. "Babe. Please."

"I hate it when you fight dirty." She huffed out a breath and stalked over to the bed. "Fine, but no funny business."

I suppressed a grin and instead leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp. "Scout's honor." Not that I'd ever been a Boy Scout.

We lay there quietly for several minutes, but even though over a foot separated us, I could feel Steph's restlessness. I sighed and turned my head toward her. "I smell something burning, Babe."

"It's so not the time for this, Ranger."

I let myself grin, then. She was practically vibrating from the effort of holding back whatever was bothering her. "Are either of us going to get any sleep if you don't get it out?" When she didn't answer, I reached out with my good arm and tugged her a little closer to me. "What is it, Steph?" She huffed out a breath and then said something I wasn't expecting.

"I'm trying not to be pissed at you, right now."

"I thought we settled that already." _I _was still pissed that she and core team hadn't followed orders, but I'd swallowed my pride and thanked her and the team for coming after me.

"Tank gave me the letter you left for me."

_Shit._ He was supposed to wait until I was confirmed dead to give it to her, but if she'd read it, why was she acting this way? "Babe."

"Don't 'Babe' me, Ranger." She jerked away and turned her back to me. "Why would you write a load of bullshit like that?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion. "Did you think I wouldn't be mad at you if you were dead? _God,_ I hate being played."

_What the Hell?_ _Did she really think so little of me? _ Anger surged through me at her words, and even though my shoulder and leg screamed with the effort, I had her turned over and caged under me before I could think better of it. "I didn't lie," I ground out. "I. Meant. Every. Word," And I had. I did. I loved Stephanie the only way I knew how, with everything I had.

She shook her head, as if in denial. "What about 'your love comes with a condom and not a ring?'"

I sighed. Her eyes glistened in the dim moonlight that filtered in through the windows, and I had to stop myself from kissing away the single tear that ran down her cheek.

Just like that, my anger drained away. "I'm not in a position to offer you a ring or marriage." Which was ironic, since she was wearing the ring I'd had made for her back in more hopeful days. "But I did mean what I wrote in that note."

Her next question wasn't one I'd expected, either. "What about the regrets you wrote about?"

I flopped over onto my back, my muscles protesting all the way. I tugged on her arm again, and she came with me, grudgingly, and lay stiffly along my side. "I have a lot of regrets," I finally said.

"Such as?"

There were too many to name. I regretted boosting that car when I was fourteen. I sometimes regretted letting my ex's husband adopt my daughter. I sure as hell regretted a good number of the missions I'd done for the government.

"Do you regret writing that letter?" She finally asked, her voice tentative and not at all like the Steph I knew.

"It might have been easier for us if I hadn't, but no, I don't. Steph, I do lo-"

She cut me off with a kiss, the press of her lips so gentle and fleeting on mine that I barely felt it. But barely there or not, it still had certain parts of me ready to sit up and beg.

"Maybe someday you'll be ready to finish that sentence, and maybe then I'll have things to tell you. Not now, though."

"You're right, as always, Babe." I sighed in relief and tugged on her until she was plastered against my good side, with one slim thigh thrown carelessly over mine. I was probably a coward to not say the words, but it really wasn't the time. We were still miles from safety and no amount of wishing could change the fact that I still had a year left on my contract.

She moved restlessly against me, and I slid my hand over her hip to still her. As I inched up the T-shirt she wore, I found only smooth, silky skin. Intrigued, I explored a little farther and found only the thinnest imaginable strip of lace. _Oh yeah_. She was definitely wearing the really sexy panties.

Steph squirmed some more, but abruptly stopped when she discovered just how much I was enjoying her choice of pajamas.

"Jesus," she breathed. "Aren't you supposed to be shot or something?" She gingerly removed her leg and inched away from my side. When I just hauled her back, she chuckled. "I give up. If you're that horny, you must be feeling better."

I dropped a smacking kiss on her temple and settled her along my side, again. "You always affect me Babe. But don't worry, the flesh may be willing, but the spirit is definitely weak."

I could practically feel her rolling her eyes. "I think you got that saying backwards."

"Not tonight, Babe." My solider was ready for duty, but the rest of me was dead tired. I finally closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift. As the minutes ticked by, the house quieted further and Babe became a warm, sleepy weight at my side. I was just about to drop off to sleep when a thought suddenly occurred to me.

"Babe, how are you explaining your absence?"

"Tank helped. I'm at Point Pleasant," she told me groggily. "Why?"

"Just wondering if Tank's going to have to deal with an angry cop," I told her, half-jokingly. The other half of me dreaded her answer, but I'd already revealed way too much of myself tonight. If she and Morelli were still tight…

"Nah, Joe's dating a schoolteacher now." She yawned, her voice heavy with sleep. "Let her worry about his temper…"

I couldn't hold back the smile that burst forth at her revelation, but with her in my arms, and after the punishing pace of the last few weeks, I couldn't help but follow her into sleep. And as I did, a foreign emotion began to bloom inside me: hope.

* * *

><p>Shout out to: Trhodes9 and MMBabefanmmm. Your comments about Ranger being OK if he was getting horny were so funny, I decided to have Steph tease him about it.<p>

And I'd like to give a special thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. I hadn't written action like that before, so thanks for your encouragement: deviates322, RhoJ, Stephannie1014, MMBabefanmmm, daydreamer987, Angela Mueller, Barb4psu, First Generation Scot, JenRar, MnGrammaX3, Quilter Girl, Meyzen, LuckyStarlett, 56 olds, alix33, Selene Aduial, throdes9, jkgk carrotmusic, StubbornPansy, erdi99, Fanfictionstalker, 4everstephranger, and guest reviewers.

AN: For those who asked: I know he's such a badass that he probably wouldn't leave a mushy note like this, but if he did, this is how I think Ranger's last note (from chapter 2) would read.

Babe,

If you're reading this, chances are I'm not coming back. I have many regrets, but how I feel about you isn't one of them. I love you. No qualifiers, no restrictions. Be safe and listen to Tank, for once. Please.

Carlos


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

_Previously:_

_"__Babe, how are you explaining your absence?"_

_"__Tank helped. I'm at Point Pleasant," she told me groggily. "Why?"_

_"__Just wondering if Tank's going to have to deal with an angry cop," I told her, half-jokingly. The other half of me dreaded her answer, but I'd already revealed way too much of myself tonight. If she and Morelli were still tight…_

_"__Nah, Joe's dating a schoolteacher now." She yawned, her voice heavy with sleep. "Let her worry about his temper…"_

_I couldn't hold back the smile that burst forth at her revelation, but with her in my arms, and after the punishing pace of the last few weeks, I couldn't help but follow her into sleep. And as I did, a foreign emotion began to bloom inside me: hope._

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 – Ain't nothing to it<p>

* * *

><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

An alarm beeping dragged me abruptly from sleep. "God, too early," I grumbled as I reached out and groped for my alarm clock. My first clue that I wasn't snug in my own bed back in Jersey was when I encountered a warm, well-muscled chest and abs, instead of hard plastic. The second clue was a husky, masculine chuckle near my ear.

"Move your hand a little lower, Babe, and I guarantee you won't be turning me off."

I opened one eye and dragged his wrist closer. There, on the luminescent watch face was all of the info I needed. "No innuendo allowed at two AM, Ranger."

He just chuckled and began to inch out of bed. Watching each slow, painful motion brought back the events of the last twenty-four hours and had me sitting straight up in bed.

"Thanks, Babe," he said gruffly when I reached down and picked the crutch up off the floor for him. I watched him adjust the sling immobilizing his bad shoulder before levering himself upright.

"Is it OK for us to travel already?" I asked, worriedly. I shouldn't have even bothered, because I knew the answer.

He shrugged. "Don't know about you, but I'd feel better if we got out of here."

He had a point. Based on some of the stories I'd overheard in the past and our reception at the clinic yesterday, Colombia was never going to be on my top ten list of vacation spots. At least we hadn't been captured and tortured by guerillas. Yet.

Since I was already up, I grabbed the Michelle Miller duffel and headed toward the hall bathroom. Stephanie Pardo's matching Louis Vuitton was still on the plane, wherever it was. Ten minutes later, I'd taken care of basic hygiene and gotten dressed in another pair of jeans, sneakers, and a short-sleeved top Ella had packed for me. I pulled my hair back in a sloppy ponytail and promised myself I'd take a very long, very hot shower as soon as possible.

When I returned to the bedroom, I discovered that Ranger had somehow gotten himself into a clean pair of cargos and T. He brushed a kiss across my forehead and with the crutch wedged firmly under his good arm, limped toward the bathroom.

"We move out in five, Babe."

I thought about rolling my eyes, or at least complaining that two-fifteen AM wasn't, in this or any alternate universe, a time for anything but sleeping. But Ranger was right. I'd feel better if we got out of here, too.

R&S~R&S~R&S

The guys were waiting for me and Ranger out in Maria's yard. Manny grabbed the two duffels I'd carried outside and stowed them in the vehicle he and Les had 'found' for our trip. I couldn't see it very well in the weak light cast by Bobby's flashlight, but I remembered that it was an ancient Range Rover, and there were so many dents and patches of rust I wasn't even sure what color it was. Primer gray, maybe? It made some of my POS cars look good and I said as much to the guys. "Are you sure this thing even runs?"

Les stopped kissing Maria long enough to scowl at me. "Hater. You once drove something called a Rolls-wagon and you're complaining, now?" He asked in mock outrage. "I'm hurt. This fine vehicle cost me a pair of boots, three boxes of ammo and a hundred bucks."

I rolled my eyes at him. "You were robbed."

Manny and Bobby hooted with laughter and all three guys started to hurl good-natured insults at each other. Bobby was just suggesting that his blind and deaf grandmother could've found a better truck when Ranger finally just shook his head.

"I can't fucking believe that insurgents used to piss themselves over you jokers," he growled. "Time to move out."

The guys grumbled, but they finished packing the Range Rover while Ranger turned and said something in Spanish to our hostess. A couple of minutes later, I'd hugged Maria goodbye and wedged myself into the back seat between Bobby and Manny.

"Well, I guess that's another village Santos has fucked his way through," Manny teased as we turned onto the main road out of said village.

Bobby shook his head. "You're just jealous. I for one am grateful to Les' cock. Little Les came through and got us a roof over our head."

"Ain't nothing little about me, _pendejo._" Les flipped them both off. "And shut the Hell up," he growled. "She's a good woman."

I had to agree, especially when I unwrapped the cloth-covered bundle she'd given me. Anyone who gave me food was good people, in my book. "Hey, knock it off, or I won't share the loot with you," I told them, slapping Bobby's hand when he tried to grab one those little fried donut things she'd packed for us.

"Hey, why does he get breakfast and I don't?" Bobby complained when I passed a couple of bananas to Ranger in the front seat.

Ranger swiveled around and grinned at me, his teeth gleaming in the dim light of the truck interior. "Maybe because I know how to keep my mouth shut."

"Yep, Ranger's always a gentleman," I agreed with a blush. And, as strange as it sounds, it was true. Sure, some days the only words I heard from Ranger were come-ons and innuendo, but he'd never been anything but supportive and respectful of my abilities. Plus, I hadn't missed the thick envelope he'd given Maria before we'd left. Maybe she'd opened her doors to us because of Les, but Ranger had made sure she was well compensated.

Manny snorted to himself and reached for one of the mangoes. He backed away abruptly when my stomach let out a roar. "Jesus," he breathed. "Feed that thing before it attacks us."

I rolled my eyes and stuffed another piece of fried dough in my mouth. I closed my eyes in appreciation as an almost perfect combination of fat, sugar and empty carbs hit my taste buds. It wasn't quite a TastyKake, but it'd do.

I ate several more of the _churros_, or whatever it was that the guys called them, as we drove through the weak pre-dawn light towards the coast. I even eventually shared the food with the guys, after they'd apologized for their piggy comments. Sure, Les was a man whore, but Maria was a goddess with a frying pan and deserved some respect.

The jungle was dark and silent, but the road was deserted and the Range Rover only overheated once. So, just as the guys had promised, we rolled up to our destination just after dawn. Les pulled to a stop beside a wide bay and I looked out in wonder as the sun rose over the Caribbean.

"Great view, Huh?" He said, proving that ESP must be a standard option for Ranger's core team.

"Yeah," I said faintly. "Where are we, anyway?"

Bobby clapped me on the shoulder as he slid out of the SUV. "The way out of this hellhole," he said nodding toward a seaplane bobbing in the distance.

We were actually a few miles from a coastal city called Turbo, though you'd never know it from looking at the marina that one of the guy's friends owned – if you could call a couple of piers, half a dozen sailboats and a couple of fuel pumps a marina. Les and Bobby went off to arrange our ride out of there while Manny and I helped Ranger into the bait shop/café that sat next to the nearest pier.

"Is that thing safe?" I asked, casting a nervous glance toward the seaplane. Sure, I'd wanted to fly like a superhero when I was a kid, but that didn't mean I trusted airplanes. Especially one that made clown cars look roomy.

Ranger chuckled and tugged on one of my curls. "It's perfectly safe, Babe."

"Yeah, ain't nothing to it. Diego hasn't crashed anything in what, two, three, years?" Manny told me with a grin.

"That's not at all comforting," I growled, shooting them both a level three 'Burg death glare.

"I'm just joking, Bombshell. Mostly," Manny said as he produced a deck of cards from his cargoes. "Hey, you know how to play Speed?"

"What do I get if I win?" I asked suspiciously as he deftly cut and shuffled the cards. After the last time I'd played poker with Tank and Les, I'd learned to always get the stakes up front. I'd lost and had to choose between kissing Vinnie or one of the girls at the bonds office on the lips. Let's just say that Connie is a sloppy kisser.

"A week's supply of donuts," he told me as he dealt the cards into two piles. "But when _I _win, you and I will be spending a whole morning at the gun range."

"Don't count on it," I told him as I prepared for battle. "I can taste those donuts already."

Five minutes later, Manny was gloating while Ranger was just shaking his head in disappointment. But before I could challenge him to a rematch, my Spidey senses went crazy for the third time in as many days.

"Crap," I hissed as I turned toward the door. I couldn't be sure, but the no-neck goon that was standing with his back to the door looked sort of familiar. Well, at least his jacket did. "Wasn't he with Escobar at the hospital?"

We were in the back, so Ranger and Manny were at the rear door in seconds. Ranger was surprisingly fast for an injured guy, but I guess that's why he's Batman.

"Babe." I looked over to where Ranger was beckoning to me. I didn't always have my decoder ring, but I was guessing that meant. 'Get your ass over here.'

I looked back to the door and noticed that the goon still hadn't looked inside. I checked my bag for a weapon as I began to back away. "Go!" I hissed as I undid the top three buttons of my shirt. Jeans and a top weren't my usual distraction gear, but at least I was still wearing the sexy underwear. Ranger was scowling at me, but I just turned my back and headed toward the front door.

"_Hola_," I purred as my target entered the café. "Do you know anything about cars? _Coche?_" Escobar's man spoke about as much English as I spoke Spanish, but he still followed me and my boobs to the Range Rover, which was conveniently parked by the side of the building furthest from the seaplane.

I watched the seaplane start to taxi toward me out of the corner of my eye, but luckily the goon was distracted by the Range Rover, which obligingly started with a roar, and died. I crossed my fingers and started to back toward the pier while he was huddled under the hood.

I was almost home free when I collided with a hard object. "Son of a bitch!" I hissed when I realized who I'd collided with. Escobar kept turning up like a bad penny.

"So, _chica._ What do you think you're worth to Mañoso?" He asked with an evil grin. I looked frantically around and saw that the seaplane was closing in, the goon was just turning toward us, and Escobar really stupid. Creepy, but still really dumb - he didn't even have his gun out.

"Fuck you!" I screamed as I jammed my stun gun to his neck. It connected this time and he stumbled back, his grip on me going slack. I may not be an ex-Army commando, but I'm not stupid. I pulled away as fast as I could and I ran. Gunfire exploded around me, and still, I ducked and ran harder. The plane was at the end of the pier, by then, and Les was on one of the pontoon thingies, beckoning to me.

"Come on!" He screamed, his arm outstretched. I could hear the sound of feet pounding the boards behind me, so I did the only thing I could do. I jumped.

I sort of missed the pontoon, but Les grabbed on and hauled me up to safety. The next thing I knew, we were picking up speed and I was on my back on the floor of the plane, staring up at Manny's grinning face.

"What'd I tell you, Bomber? Ain't nothing to it!"

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks again to everyone who took the time to read and review – MarshaMac1215, darcy, mandababe15, Lordel, alix33, , Stephannie1014, .3348, tvdfanpam, StubbornPansy, JenRar, molly9429, 4everstephranger, carrotmusic, 56 olds, Selene Aduial, spiffytgm, jkgk, Lulubelle09, Quilter Girl, Sarai, Fanfictionstalker, avBabe, bkc04, Barb4psu, and guest reviewers.<p>

Pendejo = idiot, asshole; coche = car; chic = girl. Turbo is at the end of the Pan American Highway. If Ranger and company want to get to a friendlier country like Panama or Costa Rica, there's only one way out, and it's not by road.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

AN: _Italicized_ sentences indicate that Ranger and Les are speaking in Spanish. _Pendejo_ and _cabròn _are both relatively mild insults in Spanish and translate to something like 'asshole'.

* * *

><p>Previously:<p>

I sort of missed the pontoon, but Les grabbed on and hauled me up to safety. The next thing I knew, we were picking up speed and I was on my back on the floor of the plane, staring up at Manny's grinning face.

"What'd I tell you, Bomber? Ain't nothing to it!"

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: We talk. A lot.<p>

* * *

><p>Ranger's POV<p>

I was sitting at a bar for the second time in a week, and I knew I wasn't going to get to enjoy a beer here, either. A couple of days ago, I'd been interrupted by some men who had a grudge against my cousin, and today, I just wasn't in the mood. Maybe it was the two gunshot wounds that were throbbing like a bitch, or maybe it was the curly haired brunette that was playing cards with one of my men a couple of tables away that was affecting my outlook on life.

_"__Hey, you're starting to scare the natives_," my cousin murmured in Spanish from his seat next to me.

"_Maybe I'd be in a better mood if you hadn't gotten me sh_ot," I grumbled.

"_Nah, I don't think that's it_." Les smirked and flipped me off. "_I'd bet my last pack of Trojan XLs that the reason you're trying to glare holes in everyone has big blue eyes, and about the best ass I've ever seen_."

"_You'd better not be looking at any part of her,_" I growled. I finally forced my eyes away from Steph and acknowledged to the both of us just how right he was. "_I don't know whether to kiss her or be pissed as Hell_."

Les shrugged. "_No reason you can't do both_." He took a pull from his own beer. "_Look, I know you hate it when people butt into your business."_

_"__Damn right,"_ I growled.

_"__But I'm going to do it anyway,"_ he continued as if I hadn't spoken. _"Look, what she did back at the marina was one of the gutsiest and stupidest things I've ever seen." _

_"__Damn right,"_ I repeated.

_"__And if she were my woman, I'd tell her that. And instead of just patting her on the head and sending her on her way, I'd offer to train her better so maybe she'd be able to handle our shit better next time. After I fucked her so good she couldn't remember that asshole cop's name, of course,"_ he told me with a smirk.

"_Shut the Hell up," _I snarled. "_I never -"_ The words died in my throat before I could get them out. Truth was, as much as I loved Babe, she frustrated the shit out of me, sometimes. So much so that, yeah, I often did just put her in a SUV and send her home when an Op went pear-shaped. It was either do that or shake her. But _mi primo_ was ignoring one simple fact. "_She's not my woman, idiot."_

_"__And whose fault is that, asshole?" _He shot back. "_Look, I know this is where you start spouting that whole 'my lifestyle doesn't lend itself to relationships' crap…"_

_"__Because it doesn't. I can't offer her the kind of life she needs."_

_"__I call bullshit on that," _he told me with a grin. _"Don't forget who you stole that line from, Ric." _He leaned in closer. _"I've never wanted to tie myself down, either, but if I had a fine ass woman like that," _he said, nodding toward Steph. _"A woman who loves me so much she'd risk her neck for me, well, I'd change my mind real quick." _He stood and polished off his beer. "_And I'd encourage her hanging around Manny, too. Dude's already gotten her to agree to spend a whole week at the gun range."_

After he went to join the card game, I swallowed a chuckle and sat back to watch Manny continue to beat Babe at cards. I don't know how he'd done it, but he'd somehow managed to trick Babe into agreeing to some training – and in such a way that she'd never try to wiggle out of it. The one game he'd 'lost' to her, she'd ended up with an IOU for a day's backup when we returned to Trenton.

I wouldn't ever tell him this to his face, but Manuel Castillo was one slick _cabròn_ and he'd be getting a bonus when we got back stateside. And maybe I'd have to borrow his idea, because I could think of all kinds of activities I'd like to do with Stephanie Plum, and only about half of them involved gym or range time.

I finally took a long drink from my beer and sat there, thinking, for several long minutes. And when I'd had enough of thinking, I made a couple of phone calls, and just sat and watched my Babe laugh and joke around with my men.

* * *

><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

"Jesus! That's the last time I play poker with you hustlers," I fumed as I laid down my cards. Two pairs to Les' three of a kind and Manny's full house. I'd lost again.

"Don't be like that, Beautiful." Les leaned back in his chair and waggled his eyebrows. "It's not like we're having you do anything unspeakable. Though I'd be glad to up the stakes if you're game."

"You're making me go running with you. That's unspeakable enough," I grumbled. Sure, I'd won two dozen Boston creams and a promise of some backup from both of them, but I'd somehow gotten snookered into training with the guys. Spending my days at the gun range or getting thrown around by Les weren't my idea of fun, but at least it wasn't like last time I'd played poker with the RangeMen. I wouldn't have to kiss anyone at the bonds office, except for maybe Ranger; but that was never a hardship.

"Well, I'd better quit while I'm ahead," I sighed, shaking my head when Manny went to deal again. Not that I was exactly ahead, but if I didn't stop playing, they'd have me giving up TastyKakes or carrying two guns and a knife.

"Hey, I'll go easy on you," Manny promised, insincerely. "Hand to God."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed, pushing back from the table. I stumbled a little, but a warm, familiar hand steadied me. I turned to look up into equally familiar dark brown eyes, and found myself blushing at the heat I found there. I couldn't tell if he wanted to kiss me or turn me over his knee, and at that moment I wasn't sure I cared which he did. Either one would be pretty hot.

I licked my lips, nervously. "Is the plane ready?" Diego the Maniac had flown us to a small port in Costa Rica, not far from where the jet had landed the day before. Not that I blamed Eagle and his crew for coming here instead of hanging around in Colombia. What little I'd seen of the beach and resorts had been beautiful.

Ranger nodded briefly, his eyes darkening even further before his blank face finally slammed down. "Yeah. We can leave anytime."

"Oh." I wasn't sure why his words disappointed me so much, because getting back to Jersey really wasn't such a bad thing. I was tired of being shot at and I could really use a shower.

"But I was thinking," he looked away briefly before meeting my eyes again. "Brown's cousin manages a resort down here. How about a little R and R before we head back?"

"Uh…" Go straight back to icy cold and slush or spend few more days in paradise with Ranger? It really shouldn't have been that hard of a decision, but on the one hand, I wasn't sure I'd be able to resist Ranger that long, and on the other….. "You were in a hospital yesterday," I reminded him, pitching my voice low enough so the guys couldn't overhear.

"They were clean hits, Bomber. Boss Man just needs to stay off that leg," Bobby piped up, proving that RangeMen were nosy bastards and had excellent hearing. "He can do that anywhere."

Ranger raised one eyebrow. "Babe?"

"Well, if you're sure…." Maybe if I doubled up on the sugar, Ranger and I would both be safe from my hormones. "If it's just for a couple of days, I'm in," I agreed.

Judging by the wolf grin Ranger shot me, I was probably going to regret my decision.

R&S~R&S~R&S

A couple of hours later, a grumbling Les was on his way to wherever while Ranger, Manny, Bobby, and I checked into a gorgeous villa on the beach. Well, there were actually two villas, and Manny and Bobby were in the one next door. At least I assumed so, because they disappeared right after settling us in.

I was in the second bedroom trying to decide whether I should unpack the Stephanie Pardo bags or the Michelle Miller duffel when I felt a tingling sensation settle along the back of my neck.

"I think the big bag has a bikini in it, Babe."

"That bag's got a lot of things, Batman," I grumbled as I turned to face him. His lips twitched slightly in amusement, so I figured it was safe to bring up something that had been bothering me the last couple of days. "I don't pretend to understand what's up with these bug out bags, but I think these belong to you," I told him as I dug for the envelopes I'd found in both sets of luggage.

He barely spared the cash a glance. "Keep it."

"There's gotta be twenty grand here, Ranger!" Since he wouldn't take them, I tossed both envelopes down on the bed and flopped down beside them.

"Twenty five, actually," he said, settling on the opposite end of the bed from me. "I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem, Ranger, is that I don't understand why you keep fake IDs and cash on hand for me. Seriously. Twenty-five thousand dollars? What were you thinking?" God, he was so infuriating, and nuts, too, if he thought I'd take that much money from him.

"I was thinking it was enough to get you to safety, but not so far I couldn't…" He trailed off abruptly and wouldn't quite meet my eyes.

"Not so far you couldn't find me again," I guessed. Ok, that explained the cash, but not the aliases; which were apparently married to his cover identities.

I growled in frustration. Ranger didn't do relationships. Not even fake ones. "But why? Why do you even care?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I'd said the wrong thing.

"Why do I care?" He asked, his voice so soft and cold it sent chills down my spine. And the look in his eyes – sweet baby Jesus. It was enough to make my core flood with moisture and clench with need. He slid across the bed with sinuous grace, almost as if he were stalking me. "The real question is why do you think I don't?"

If I had any sense, I would've turned and run. But at that moment, with that dark, intense gaze pinning me in place, I couldn't have, even if I'd wanted to. I licked at my lips nervously and closed my eyes when a low growl rumbled from his throat. "I know you care," I whispered. "I just hate it when you bleed money for me."

"Babe. Look at me." His good hand grasped my chin gently, tilting my face upwards. "Please." My eyes flew open to finally meet his and the tenderness in them almost floored me. "Your safety is important to me. There's no price I wouldn't pay to ensure it," he said simply. "The money, the cars, they're replaceable. You're not."

His words were as sweet as they were terrifying. "I'm still mad at you," I warned him, swallowing around the lump that suddenly rose in my throat.

Ranger's lips quirked up slightly as he laid back against the headboard. "Well, I'm sure as hell angry at you, too, Babe."

"What did I do?" My eyes widened in shock. Forget sweet. The man was going to drive me batty with these mood swings of his.

"If it's about ignoring that Operation Omega bullshit, may I remind you I'm not one of your employees?"

His expression flickered, slightly. "I'm still not happy about that, but what really has me pissed is what went down back at the marina."

"At the marina," I repeated, dumbly. "You mean the distraction?" That's what had him peeved at me? It wasn't like I hadn't run plenty of them for him, before.

"It was nothing like before," he told me gruffly, his jaw tensing as he bit out each word.

"OooKay," I said slowly. I must've said that last part out loud. I waited, hoping he'd explain because I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of this conversation anymore.

"In a distraction," he continued, "You're wired and I or my men are there and able to back you up."

"You were there –"

"And there is always a fucking plan, Stephanie," he finished, his nostrils flaring slightly. "You went out there with no plan, no backup, and no weapon except for a cheap stun gun you probably bought out of the back of a truck."

Crap. He never used my full name unless he was pissed. I started to mention that I'd had the gun Les had given me, but we both knew that I probably wouldn't have used it.

"Shit, you're spooky sometimes. But for your information, the guy I bought it off of was driving a Camaro," I said jokingly. But when he just stared at me, impassively, I'd had enough.

"Well, since you're speaking in full sentences today Ranger, why don't you go ahead and tell me what I did wrong, then! Since I'm obviously so incompetent I can't back you up," I muttered under my breath. Jesus, if he was anyone else, I'd be screaming and talking in Italian hand gestures by now. But this was Ranger, who always had my back and never seemed to criticize. That he was doing it now just plain hurt.

"Shit," he cursed, scrubbing one hand tiredly over his face. "I knew we shouldn't have had this conversation. _Fucking Santos,_" he muttered under his breath. When he finally met my eyes again, his expression was neutral, but his voice was softer, and warmer than before. "You're not incompetent, and I do trust you to have my back, Babe."

"Oh." Well I guess that was something.

He patted the bed next to him and I slowly slid over to join him at the head of the bed. We weren't quite touching, but I could feel the heat of his body against my side and it felt… nice. "What you did was brave, and scared the living hell out of me," he began. "Normally I can lock it down, compartmentalize, but all that keeps running through my head is that you ran straight into a dangerous situation and I couldn't do a damn thing but slink out the back like some pussy."

"Ranger…" I moved until I was leaning against his good side, hoping the contact would make it easier to have this conversation. Normally I avoided talking about my feelings like Joyce Barnhardt wishes she could avoid the clap, but I didn't see how I could sidestep it now. "I was just trying to help."

"I know, Babe." He took a deep breath and settled me against his shoulder a little more firmly. "But if there had been more men, or the one you distracted had been smarter…" He sighed. "If Escobar hadn't decided he'd rather grab you than shoot you…"

"But he was after you, or Les. Why would he want me?" I protested.

"Why wouldn't he want to hold you hostage?" Ranger asked softly.

"Oh," I said dumbly, as Escobar's words at the pier came back to me. What_ did_ I think I was worth to Mañoso? I wasn't entirely sure, but everything he'd said today made me think maybe Escobar hadn't been as crazy as I thought he was.

"If you hadn't gotten free, I was two seconds from jumping off that plane," Ranger confessed quietly.

With his leg like it was, that would've been a disaster. I thought back to those few seconds when I was running for the seaplane. Sure, some of the gunfire had been the guys covering me, but judging by the bullet holes Diego had been muttering over after we landed, Escobar and his goon had returned fire. "Crap," I muttered as spots began to dance before my eyes, and I suddenly had trouble drawing air into my lungs.

Ranger was right. So much could've gone wrong. Ranger and Manny might not have made it to the plane. I might not have gotten away from Escobar. Les and I could've both ended up falling off of pontoon since this was real life and not a Hollywood movie. One lucky shot could've sent us up in flames – which I knew only too well after way too many car explosions. The next thing I knew, my head was between my knees and Ranger was encouraging me to breathe.

"You OK?" He asked when I finally came up for air. His good hand was still rubbing soothingly up and down my back, which I appreciated.

"Yeah." I took another deep, shaky breath. "Getting ripped out of Denial Land just hurts."

His lips twitched slightly at my lame attempt at a joke, but he still looked concerned. I squeezed his shoulder and pulled back slightly so that I could look him in the eye. "OK. As much as I hate to admit it, that wasn't the smartest move I could've made." And since I was being ever so slightly honest with myself, there were a lot of pretty dumb moves in my past. "But admitting that, where do we go from here?"

Ranger shook his head ruefully. "Sticking you in a safe house for the next ten years probably isn't an option."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Would you seriously want me to?"

He shook his head. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"OK." I blew out a breath I hadn't even been aware I was holding in. Between my mom filling out job applications for the personal products plant for me and Joe flipping his lid whenever a capture went wonky, I couldn't have handled it if Ranger was drinking their Kool-aid, too.

"So, it's safe to assume that I'll stop backing you up the day you stop jumping off bridges after me, right?"

Ranger choked slightly and shook his head. "You could say that." He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. "I'm not going to stop watching your back."

"So expect me to return the favor, Mister." I tried to glare at him, but failed. "I'm not quitting bounty hunting," I told him firmly.

"I wouldn't ask you to."

"But…." I'd heard the slightest hesitation in his voice, so God only knew what else he was holding back. _You can bounty hunt as long as you do it in an armored vehicle? Or, I wouldn't ask you to give it up, but you really should?_

"But, you need training," he finished for me.

I started to argue with him, just on principle, but he'd said it so matter-of-factly I couldn't dismiss his words out of hand. He wasn't yelling. He wasn't even pleading with me. He was just stating a fact.

"But not because I'm asking you to."

"But because I'd do my job better if I had it," I finished for him with a sigh. Nope, Ranger wouldn't ever demand that I get training, because he didn't play those kinds of games. Though it might be easier for me if he did. "I've slowly been coming to that conclusion lately, myself."

"Babe."

I almost laughed at the look of shock on his face. "You expected me to argue more, didn't you?" I chuckled when his blank face slammed down again. "If I'd been armed, maybe Sonny's men wouldn't have been able to throw me off that bridge. Or I could've avoided the last dozen or so kidnapping attempts," I admitted. "And I'm getting a little tired of rolling in garbage all of the time."

I shot him a mischievous grin. "Besides, if your men are resorting to tricking me into training with them, maybe I should just let them help me out."

He pulled me close and laid the mother of all kisses on me. It started out gentle but went from sweet to panty-melting hot in 3.2 seconds. When we finally pulled apart, his lips lifted in a full, beautiful one hundred-watt grin. "Babe, you never disappoint." He dropped another kiss on my forehead. "Proud of you."

Those three words turned my insides to goo, like usual, but before I could respond my stomach roared with hunger.

Ranger chuckled and reached for the phone. "We'll finish our talk later. Time to feed the beast, Babe."

I ducked my head to hide my blush as I rolled off the other side of the bed. As embarrassing as it was, I was grateful to my stomach right then – I'd pretty much reached my limit for serious talk for the whole year.

"OK, but no rabbit food, Batman," I told him as I headed for the shower.

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><p>AN: After the last cliffhanger, I decided to split this chapter into two parts so that I could get something out sooner. *Points to the story description before running for cover. It's a Babefic. Promise!<p>

Thanks again to everyone who took the time to read and review: deviates322, wyominggal, jwarden, Stubborn Pansy, jkgk, First Generation Scot, jenio1, JenRar, molly9429, YbanormImom, erdi99, carrotmusic, Selene Aduial, annalynn88, RhoJ, sbabe, 56 olds, Quilter Girl, alix33, Barb4psu, Sarai, Elkniw73, Fanfictionstalker, and guest reviewers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Previously:<p>

He pulled me close and laid the mother of all kisses on me. It started out gentle but went from sweet to panty-melting hot in 3.2 seconds. When we finally pulled apart, his lips lifted in a full, beautiful one hundred-watt grin. "Babe, you never disappoint." He dropped another kiss on my forehead. "Proud of you."

Those three words turned my insides to goo, like usual, but before I could respond my stomach roared with hunger.

Ranger chuckled and reached for the phone. "We'll finish our talk later. Time to feed the beast, Babe."

I ducked my head to hide my blush as I rolled off the other side of the bed. As embarrassing as it was, I was grateful to my stomach right then – I'd pretty much reached my limit for serious talk for the whole year.

"OK, but no rabbit food, Batman," I told him as I headed for the shower.

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><p>Chapter 8: We talk. Some more.<p>

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><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

I woke all on my own for the first time in days – no obnoxious alarm in my ear, no 280 pound Merry Man landing on my chest. I cracked open one eye and then blinked blearily at the unfamiliar room. The morning light filtered in through blue storm shutters, painting the white walls in bars of gold and shadow, and somewhere outside, surf pounded against sand. Where the heck was I again? The pillow next to me was dented, but stone cold, so I laid back and let the events of the last couple of days come back to me: _Finding Ranger in Colombia, our flight to Costa Rica. The talk - which we hadn't actually finished. _

After my shower, I'd come back out to the living room just as room service had delivered two thick, juicy cheeseburgers. I'd teased him about defiling the temple with red meat and trans-fats and he'd just shaken his head.

_"Not a temple week, Babe."_

And then he'd proceeded to drain half of my milkshake, in a move that had me wondering if Ranger had been replaced by a pod person. I'd had no choice but to steal most of his fries in retaliation, but the upshot was we'd both fallen into bed in a food coma shortly afterward. I normally didn't mind any excuse to avoid any kind of serious discussion, but now it meant that whatever discussion Ranger had planned for us was still hanging over my head. I sighed and checked the bedside clock; seven AM. At least I'd gotten 14 hours of solid sleep.

Nature was screaming, so I finally hoisted myself out of bed to answer its call. And, after taking care of the necessities and dressing in one of Stephanie Pardo's more modest bikinis – if you could call three smallish triangles of screaming red lycra modest – I grabbed a cover up and reluctantly went out to face the music.

Ranger was sitting at the breakfast table, with his bum leg propped up in a chair and a coffee carafe at his elbow. He was on the phone, his words clipped and expression intent, but since he didn't seem concerned about me being there, I topped off his mug and doctored up a cup for myself before sitting down. The conversation was in Spanish anyway, so the only words I caught were 'Escobar' and what I thought were a couple of choice curse words.

I was just biting into the local version of a cinnamon roll when he hung up. "Babe. Have some mercy, will you?"

"What'd you expect? You give me baked goods, I'm going to show my appreciation," I told him, deliberately taking another bite. My eyes slid closed and I couldn't hold back a moan as the warm, gooey goodness of the pasty exploded on my tongue. I hid a grin when he just groaned.

"Not that I was eavesdropping…" Ranger raised a single, skeptical, eyebrow. "OK, I totally would, if I knew more words in Spanish than 'taco' and 'burrito'," I admitted as I brushed crumbs off of my cover up. "But is Escobar still after us?"

Ranger nodded. "But not for long."

"Oh." I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I was probably already on thin ice with the big guy upstairs after the last few years, but on the other hand, Escobar had sold Ranger and the rest of us out to a cartel, and he was just plain creepy.

But if I had to choose between good karma or breathing…. "So, when do we leave?"

Ranger shook his head. "We're on vacation, Babe." He took a long sip of coffee. "Santos is arranging for certain information to fall into Barilles' hands."

"Such as?" I thought for a second, and realized that I and my immortal soul were OK with that plan. Hector Barilles was Escobar's boss and the guy that had a hard on for Les and Ranger. Letting him handle Escobar would be like karmic retribution, right?

"Such as Escobar's been pocketing some of the revenue from certain… business interests." His lips twitched slightly. "And Escobar was actually the one who screwed Barilles' wife."

I chuckled. "See? I knew Les wasn't the player you all say he is!" The Merry Men talked a good game, but they were really big, squishy marshmallows inside.

"No, Babe he really is. He was just busy banging Escobar's sisters that night."

Huh. "Figures. If they were twins, I so don't want to know," I said with a shudder. I knocked back the rest of my coffee and stood. "Well, I heard a rumor there's a beach outside. I won't set off any of Manny's alarms if I go out there, will I?"

"You never disappoint." Ranger chuckled, and tapped out a quick text. "Taken care of. Knock yourself out."

I grinned, inordinately pleased that I'd figured out why Manny had been creeping around the villa with what looked like the contents of an entire Radio Shack the day before.

"I will. Feel free to join me if your plans for world domination fall through," I told him as I nodded toward the laptop in front of him. Ranger was welcome to work on his vacation, but I was planning on doing a whole lot of nothing for as long as possible.

R&S~R&S~R&S

The rumors turned out to be true – the beach started at the back door, and there was even a fancy little private patio for me watch the waves from. I was lying on my stomach, soaking up rays when I heard the scrape of Ranger's crutch on the bricks. Seconds later, a solid weight dropped down beside me on the chaise lounge and a long, cool stream of… something landed between my shoulder blades. I shrieked, and Ranger chuckled.

"Relax," he told me as he began to rub the suntan lotion onto my back and shoulders. "You're headed toward medium-rare, Babe."

My shrieks bled into a low moan as his strokes lengthened and became softer, more sensual. "I'll give you about a year to stop that," I groaned. Ranger did have magic hands. Hell, everything about him was magical.

"Have I mentioned how much I like this bathing suit?" Ranger asked as his fingers trailed down over one bare butt cheek.

"You should, since I'm guessing you bought it," I told him as I turned to glare at him. "Hey, less talking, more suntan lotion applying, Mister."

"I dunno, Babe. Ella does most of the shopping," he told me, his face the picture of innocence.

"Hah. As if," I scoffed. No woman over the age of twenty would buy a Brazilian thong bikini for another woman. It was in the rules, like, you never wore white after Labor Day or your shoes should match your bag.

Since I was in serious danger of spontaneous combustion, I sat up and grabbed the tube from the ground next to us, efficiently applying the sunscreen to my front and legs. Ranger looked a little disappointed that I was taking over his job, but he didn't say anything.

Instead, he just nudged me over so he could stretch out next to me on the extra-wide chaise lounge. We lay there for several moments before he finally broke the silence. "Were you serious about accepting training?"

"Yeah," I sighed. So we were going to finish the talk. "I already have some range time set up with the guys for when we get back in town." I flipped over to my side and regarded Ranger steadily. "I figured training with my gun and maybe learning some takedown moves that don't involve my knee and some guy's balls were a given, but what else were you thinking of?"

"Babe."

I hid a grin at his mildly shocked look and instead tried my version of a blank face. It must've come off as more deranged than badass, because he smirked and tugged on one of my curls. "We're definitely working on your game face, Babe." When I just glared at him, he dropped a kiss on my temple. "Though, that's a pretty good look. Scary."

"Hunh." I huffed out a breath. "So… Takedowns, maybe some B&E?" It really bothered me, sometimes, that I was the only person in Trenton that couldn't break into my apartment.

Ranger tugged me closer to his side. "We'll figure it out. It's your show, Steph."

I felt something loosen deep inside of me, and just like that, all of the tension I'd been holding in over the last couple of days drained away. Ranger may be a man of few words, but right then, he'd known exactly what to say. "I'm in, but I'm not running until I puke. Or eating bark and twigs."

Ranger's lips twitched. "I wouldn't ask you to."

"Damn straight." Though, on second thought, maybe _some _cardio wouldn't be a bad idea. My jeans had been getting pretty tight, lately, and Mary Lou had been trying to get me to join her Zumba class.

We soaked up the rays in companionable silence for a while longer, and I was just about to drop off to sleep when Ranger asked the second question I'd been dreading.

"What happened with Morelli?"

"It's not something I'm itching to talk about," I warned as I sat up and pushed my shades back on my head. When he did the same, I sighed. "Short story. We're off. Permanently."

"Babe." In Ranger speak, that most likely meant…

"You want the long version, don't you?" When he nodded, I flopped onto my back again and threw one arm over my face. My sunglasses were back in place and doing their job, so the arm was mostly so I wouldn't have to watch Ranger's reaction – or non-reaction to my breakup with Joe.

"Well," I began. "It all started a couple of days after you went into the wind this time." I'd been having a pretty decent week bounty hunting – enough to cover rent and a good portion of my Macy's charge card, anyway. But then Eddie Short had decided to show his reluctance to reenter the court system by tossing a Molotov cocktail at the car I was driving. Luckily, I'd gotten out of it in time.

"He still giving you problems?" Ranger growled.

"Nah, Lula and I pinned him in the next day at the Cluck in a Bucket." He'd tried to run again, but I'd tripped him and Lula sat on him. "He didn't even get to eat his Clucky Burger," I smirked.

"Anyway, Joe wasn't happy about it." Especially since some flying chunks from my ex-car took out the neighbor's porch. "How was I supposed to know that the Chief of Police's Aunt lived next door to Eddie?" I groused, before continuing my story. Predictably, we'd argued. And even more predictably, I'd stomped off, but not before Joe had issued an ultimatum.

"I guess I'd finally had enough," I said. "When he told me he wanted a real lady and not a walking disaster, I told him he was free to go find himself one." And I'd meant it. It'd stung a little when he'd taken Lisa Bertolli's younger sister out to Rossini's a couple of days later – especially since we'd never eaten anywhere but Pino's or a drive through, but….

"The saddest part of our breakup was how much it didn't hurt. I'll always care about Joe, but I finally realized we didn't want the same things. We were just marking time and that wasn't fair to him or me," I finished. "Joe and I are through."

Ranger muttered something under his breath. I was pretty sure it wasn't complimentary. "I thought he could give you what you wanted. What you needed."

"That was most of the problem." I said with a bitter laugh. "It took me four freakin' years to realize that I'm not what Joe needs, and he still doesn't know what I want, not that it matters." I tried to tamp down on the irritation bubbling through me. "And you never asked me, either!"

"And that makes me an idiot." He tilted my chin up so we were eye to eye. "Why did you come after me, Babe?"

Huh. I'd just relived one of my more embarrassing moments and he still couldn't let go of that? _Operation Omega my ass_. "You're still pissed that I ignored your orders?" I rolled to my feet and stood staring down at him as my inner rhino threatened to burst free.

"You really have to ask?" I spit out. "Why do you keep saving me, huh?" I started to stalk back indoors when a lean, mocha-latte hand grasped my wrist and pulled.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Ranger's POV

She landed in my lap, and immediately began to struggle. My shoulder and leg weren't too happy with her wriggling around, but other parts of me were just fine with it. But, as much as I wanted to just lay her down and distract her my usual way, my cousin was right. Babe and I had a lot of years' worth of bullshit between us, and it was time to clear the air.

"Shh, Babe," I soothed. My good hand settled on the back of her neck, gently holding her until she calmed and melted into my chest. I had to resist the urge to kiss away the slight frown lines that marred her forehead, but every instinct I had was telling me it was time to be straight with her, for once.

"I help you because I love you," I told her. When surprised blue eyes met mine, I had to suppress a chuckle. "I thought that was pretty clear from the note I left."

Her eyes narrowed. "You also told me your love comes with a condom and not a ring and you don't do stupid things like relationships."

"Well, you're wearing a ring now," I joked.

She whacked me, and said ring dug lightly into my chest. "Be serious, Ranger."

"I am." I let everything I'd ever felt for her show in my eyes – all the love, lust, frustration and pride – and hoped it was enough. "I love you. No bullshit. No qualifiers."

"Oh."

"Your turn, now." I took a deep breath, hoping like Hell I hadn't just made a fool out of myself. "Why did you come after me?"

Her lips lifted in a big, beautiful smile that had my heart thudding in my chest. "Because I love you, silly."

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><p>AN: They love each other - and they'll continue their, er, talk in the next chapter. The smut is coming a little slow, but I wanted to get this out before the end of the weekend.<p>

Thanks again to everyone who took the time to read and review: Janarden, LuckyStarlett, Margaretlucylu, deviates322, Lordel, Elkniw73, First Generation Scot, JenRar, Stubborn Pansy, RhoJ, .3348, Selene Aduial, alix33, carrotmusic, sbabe, annalynn88, , Barb4psu, Fanfictionstalker, and guest reviewers.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**AN: A little something for all of you Babes, out there. Happy V-day!**

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><p>Chapter 9: Enough talking already<p>

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><p>Previously:<p>

I let everything I'd ever felt for her show in my eyes – all the love, lust, frustration and pride – and hoped it was enough. "I love you. No bullshit. No qualifiers."

"Oh."

"Your turn, now." I took a deep breath, hoping like Hell I hadn't just made a fool out of myself. "Why did you come after me?"

Her lips lifted in a big, beautiful smile that had my heart thudding in my chest. "Because I love you, silly."

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><p><strong>Stephanie's POV<strong>

His lips covered mine, in a kiss that told me everything I needed to know at moment. He cared for me. He wanted me. He really, really wanted me.

When we finally broke apart, I was breathing hard and my bikini top was barely covering the important parts. "Oh, God," I gasped as his thumb circled my nipple. "We can't do this here."

Ranger winced as I shifted restlessly on top of him. "If you want me to move you're gonna have to give me a minute," he said, rolling his hips upward against my core.

"Jesus," I moaned as I ground against him. "Do that a couple more times and I'm going to forget Bobby and Manny are lurking around," I gasped.

"They'd better not be," he growled. He took my lips in another fast, hard, kiss, and then gently nudged me to my feet. "Don't want to have to kill my men for seeing anything they shouldn't."

We made it inside in record time – if you discounted a couple of pit-stops for more kissing Ranger was still using the crutch, but I was rapidly learning that nothing slowed him down when he was properly motivated. We landed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and even though he tried to hide it, there was no mistaking his grimace when I moved to straddle him.

"Wait. I'm pretty sure this isn't what Bobby meant by bed rest," I told him as I reluctantly tried to move off of his lap. Ranger was equally reluctant to see me go, because he clamped his good arm around my waist.

"Babe." The blank face was history, so I had a pretty good idea what he was trying to tell me: _I've had worse, and I could give a crap about Brown's orders._

"This just means we'll need to get a little creative." He slowly dragged me forward and rolled his hips upward again, grinding into me until sparks of heat shot straight to my doodah and I really didn't care what Bobby thought either. "You'll maybe have to do most of the work."

OK, that was definitely a plan I could get behind. "Well…" I purred, "I've always been a hard worker."

Though I tried to be gentle, it'd been way too long since we'd been together. For long, frozen moments my whole focus was narrowed down to sweat slick skin moving against skin, Ranger's moan when I finally took him inside of me, and his whispered words in Spanish and English as I rode him. And as our movements became more frantic, our gazes locked and the intensity of the emotions that I saw in those dark, liquid eyes rocked me to my core. Lust. Tenderness. Love. I shuddered, and then came with a long moan, wondering how I'd ever thought he didn't have feelings.

R&S~R&S~R&S

We lay there for a long time – long enough for our bodies to cool and the doubts to creep back in.

"Something's burning, Babe." When I didn't answer, he hitched me closer to his side. "If you're gonna run, consider taking Manny with you."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "I'd have to be able to feel my legs, first." I sighed and turned so we were face to face. "I don't want to go anywhere…."

"But?"

I chewed on my lip nervously, not sure how to even begin. I believed him when he said he loved me, but what did that mean for us?

"What are we, now?" I asked quietly. When his blank face slammed back into place, I bit back a frustrated groan. "Before _you_ start running, I'm not trying to trap you or anything," I huffed out. "I just need to know – are we dating, or are we just friends with benefits?" I'd be fine with the former, but I wasn't sure I could just handle being a booty call.

"We are not fuckbuddies," he told me, his jaw clenching slightly on the last word. "You're mine."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That's awfully possessive sounding for someone who doesn't do relationships."

"Babe." He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, I was floored by the emotions I saw there – sadness, longing, and more than a little regret. "Between my enemies and my contract, I can't offer you the kind of life you need."

"Hunh," I grunted, not even hiding my frustration. "How do you even know what I want or need if you've never bothered to ask?" God, men were so frustrating. First there was Joe, who wanted me to quit my job so I could have Morelli spawn, and now Ranger was making assumptions too? _Ranger really could be an idiot, sometimes._

His lips twitched, slightly. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

I winced. "Out loud, right?"

He tilted my chin up so we were eye to eye. "What do you want, Babe?"

Huh. Not a question I was usually asked. "I'm not sure I want to get married again, anytime soon" I said slowly. "And I usually want to get my tubes tied after babysitting my nieces." We both chuckled. "I really just want to spend time with someone who loves me and supports my choices."

"Sounds pretty simple," Ranger said, his voice low and thoughtful.

"But pretty hard to deliver on," I said, thinking about my and Joe's train wreck of a relationship

"Most of my reasons for avoiding relationships are still valid." Ranger gently touched his finger to my lips. "Please. Hear me out. I have enemies, and hell, even friends that would love to take you out just to mess with me."

"Yeah," I agreed, remembering Scrog, Orrin and Vlatko. "But you've dealt with more of mine." I shrugged. "How many times have I broken you or one of your men? Or you've had to come to my rescue? You've jumped off a freakin' bridge for me, Ranger."

He studied me for another long moment. "I've done some bad shit, Stephanie. You don't know what kind of man I am."

R&S~R&S~R&S

**Ranger's POV**

"I know exactly what kind of man you are, and I love you." Babe took a deep breath and held my gaze, as if she were willing me to understand exactly what she was trying to tell me. "Two words, Ranger. Vlatko. Abruzzi. I've seen what you're willing to do to keep me and others safe, and you'll never be able to convince me you aren't a good man."

_Dios_. Her words hit me like a .50 caliber round to the gut. Killing Abruzzi to protect Babe was just one of many black marks against me; it weighed on me, but I knew I'd do it again if necessary. What I'd never considered is that she'd known all along what I'd done – and still could profess to love me. _Mi primo_ was right – I'd be a fool to not want to be with this woman. She'd had my back and proven more than once that she could be a partner to me. All I had to do was spend the rest of my life trying to deserve her – if I had the balls to, that is.

I took a deep breath, and pulled her close. "OK. You want me, you got me. " I kissed her then, a soft, lingering press of the lips that I hoped conveyed just how grateful I was at that moment. No matter what she said, I wasn't a good man. But if she were willing to love a man like me, I was a selfish enough bastard to keep her. "I want to be with you, but I still don't know what kind of life I can offer you."

She pulled back slightly, and studied me with narrowed eyes. "Could you promise to be faithful?" Her lips twisted into an impish grin. "And maybe say more than three words at a time?"

I barely hid the grin that threatened to spread over my face. "I'll give the talking my best shot." And as for being faithful… "I would never cheat on you. I won't do any of that on/off shit, either, so if Morelli or anyone else tries to move in…"

_The poor bastard would wake up in a third world country_, she muttered under her breath. I couldn't hold back a chuckle at that. Steph said the damnedest things sometimes, but she knew me well.

I gathered her to me and just breathed her in for several long minutes. The knowledge that she was mine to hold almost floored me. But I still didn't have a clue how this would work. I told her as much. "Still got a year on this contract, Babe."

"I get what that means – especially after this last week."

Yeah. I could be called at any time, and I might not come back.

"And…. OK." She shrugged minutely at my surprised look. "I never gave Joe any crap about his hours or when he went undercover, and I won't start now with your job." Her lips lifted in an impish grin. "How about you do your best not to get shot – again – and I'll give you all the welcome home nookie you can handle when you get back?"

"Deal." I couldn't help the grin that spread over my face. I'd never say no to sex with Stephanie. "If you promise not to go too crazy."

She winked. "No guarantees, but I'll do my best."

"But, if we're going to do this," she began hesitantly, "we'll have to actually talk sometimes." She shuddered comically. "We'll both have to talk about our feelings and you'll need to string together sentences with more than one word."

"Babe."

R&S~R&S~R&S

**Stephanie's POV**

Hunh, I grunted. "That's what I mean – I need more than 'Babe', Ranger." Even though I was getting better at decoding Ranger-speak, sometimes I wanted to hear real words. "I get it, there's a lot you can't tell me, but your favorite movie, or your favorite dessert aren't classified, right? And this is big – if I get a stalker or pick up a hot case, you'll have to talk to me and not just throw me in a safe house."

"Dumb." He grinned at my disgruntled expression. "I've seen Dumb and Dumber about a dozen times." He pressed a kiss into my curls. "With my training, I've gotten used to keeping things close to my chest."

"But if it's not top secret, or related to one of your missions…." I began.

"If you ask, I'll answer." His expression grew solemn. "I want the same deal – if we have a problem, don't shut me out or run."

I winced. After all of my breakups and fights with Joe, my go-to defense mechanism was hardly a secret. "OK, I'll do my best."

The conversation was getting too way serious for me, so I decided to it lighten it up a little. "Since we're negotiating," I said as I slid my hand down along his side. "I'll train, but like I said, I'm not giving up TastyKakes and I demand lots and lots of sex."

Ranger shuddered as I traced the ridges of his eight pack. "I know better than to get between you and your sugar, Babe. And you'll probably have to define what 'lots and lots' means because I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of you," he finished as he flipped me on my back and kissed along my neck, his stubble scraping at the tender skin, there. I'd probably have one heck of a case of beard burn, but I really didn't care as long as he…

"Don't stop," I moaned as he kissed along the curve of my breast. "My voicemail box is probably overflowing by now, so we'll have to have dinner at my parents' soon."

"Babe, I've faced terrorist cells less scary than your mom and grandmother." His breath grew labored as I flicked his left nipple with my thumbnail. "But, fine. Just not every week." He drew my nipple into his mouth before releasing it with a pop. "You'll have to carry your gun at all times."

"Jesus," I moaned. When he didn't immediately resume his previous activities, I cracked open one eye. "You're playing dirty, but OK." I gasped as his lips closed over my nipple.

Ranger kissed his way up my chest and neck until we were eye to eye. "Proud of you, Babe."

Those four words made me feel all gooey inside, as usual, but it was past time to get to the really good stuff.

"I'll carry and train with the guys, but please discuss it with me first before you put the guys on guard duty," I told him as I nudged him until he was on his back.

"Fine, but try not to ditch them, Babe." His eyes slid closed and his breath hitched as I licked and nipped around his belly button. "Can we continue this discussion, later?"

My grin turned devilish. "Yup – enough talking already, Rang-" I wasn't sure I should be calling my boyfriend by his street name, but what were the alternatives? "Carlos?"

His eyes went pitch black with lust. "Say it again," he demanded as he grasped my hip with his good hand.

"Carlos!" It came out as a breathless squeak when his hardness nudged at my entrance

"Oh yeah, that's gonna work for me," he said huskily. "Feel free to scream that as much as you like."

"Cocky, cocky," I scolded as I grabbed a condom from the nightstand. But as I sank down onto him, I had a feeling….

R&S~R&S~R&S

My hunch was right. I screamed a lot. In fact, we were so loud that Bobby tried to institute a moratorium on the nookie – so that Ranger could heal up, of course. I would've been mortified it I hadn't been pissed.

The week we spent in Costa Rica was magical, and not just because Ranger ignored Bobby's medical advice. Sure, the sex was better than it had ever been, but my favorite times were when we would just lie together and talk. In the dark of night, Carlos would leave Batman behind and it was then that I fell more and more in love with him. Don't get me wrong – Ranger the badass is hotter than hell, but Carlos, the man who admits to loving 'Dumb and Dumber' and has four older sisters who call him 'Ricky', is just as sexy.

During the day, we lazed by the pool or on the beach or hung out with the guys, and it was in those times that I really saw the shape of the weeks and months to come. If the rest of the RangeMen were like Manny or Bobby, training with the guys wouldn't be a hardship. And if, at the end of the day, I could head up to Seven for dinner with Carlos and maybe fall asleep in his arms, well that sounded like a life I wouldn't mind at all.

But it was on the last day that I really started to believe that Ranger and I were in a real, actual relationship. One that might even last past Thanksgiving. I was trying to stuff everything we'd brought (and a few essential souvenirs I'd picked up) into Stephanie Pardo's luggage when the rings Les had given me caught my eye.

"Cripes, I can't believe I forgot these." I stared down at the rings and wondered how something so…pointy could be so comfortable. The engagement ring Dickie had given me had always felt wrong somehow – like a pair of shoes half a size too small or a Christmas sweater from Great Aunt so and so.

"Uh, I guess these are yours," I told Ranger.

"Keep them." Ranger closed one hand over mine, as if to stop me from wiggling the engagement ring and wedding band off of my finger.

"But you just can't leave these lying around," I protested. Les and Ranger had both been pretty casual about them, but these weren't cheap costume jewelry. A Jersey girl knows real diamonds when they see them.

"Consider it a bonus."

"Ranger," I whined. "A little extra on the paycheck at Christmas is a bonus. A three carat solitaire from Tiffany's is not," I told him as I finally wrestled the rings free.

"Stephanie." He stared at the rings like I'd just handed him a ticking bomb. After several long seconds, he placed them in the palm of my hand and gently folded my fingers over them. "They're yours."

"But-"

"Babe. These are yours." When I just stared at him incredulously, he sighed. "They were custom made for you, and I'll be damned if they're going back in the safe."

I sat down heavily on the end of the bed. "Mine?" When he just nodded, it was like all of the air had been suddenly sucked out of the room. "We're barely dating." And I wasn't entirely sure how I felt, knowing that Ranger had bought a real, actual engagement ring for me before we'd ever so much as gone out on a date. "What if I lose them?" I continued, my breath coming fast. "Garbage and FTA cooties can't be good for platinum." I was sounding a little hysterical but…. Seriously? An engagement ring?

"Babe." Ranger cut off my tirade in only the way he could – with a swift, firm kiss to the lips. "Breathe."

He sat down next to me and drew me close to him. "I've told you before that I've seriously considered marrying you."

Sure he had, when we'd been after Vlatko in Atlantic City. "You also said maybe you'd just considered sharing closet space."

"Well, I'm an ass sometimes," he admitted, dropping another kiss onto the tip of my nose. "Though the offer of the closest space is always open, especially if you get more of the sexy undies."

"Jerk." I whapped him the chest. "The only reason I even need more is because someone can't stop ripping them off of me. " Not that I was complaining – because panty ripping sex was pretty damn hot.

"Yeah." His lips quirked into a fond smile. "We definitely need to buy out that store."

I whapped him on the chest again. "Not so fast, I still want to talk about the ring, Mister. What does it mean?"

"It means the same thing it did yesterday. I love you."

"And?"

"And we take things day by day. We date, and see if we drive each other crazy or not."

"Oh, you do, but in a good way," I told him as something loosened deep inside me. I could handle that plan. We'd date for a while... "And someday?"

"And someday maybe these will go back where they belong." Ranger smiled and kissed the hand that still held the rings. "But keep them safe until then."

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><p>Thanks again to everyone who took the time to read and review: Anonymous, Fancfictionstalker, daxandpat,LMH33, JenRar,Lordel, jkgk, .3348, KbellaManoso, Jordana Babe, deviates322, carrotmusic, reddnrad, Selene Aduial, gobucks1, Margaretlulcylu, sbabe, 56 olds, RhoJ, annalyn88, Elkniw73, MnGrammaX3, Barb4psu, alix33, and guest reviewers.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**AN: Well, here it is: the end of another story. Thanks for everyone who has followed along on this journey.**

* * *

><p>Epilogue: And they lived….<p>

* * *

><p><em>Just about a year later:<em>

**Stephanie's POV**

My eyes snapped open as a shadowy figure settled on the bed next to me. I'd had some training since the last time someone snuck in on me, so I pounced the second a hand settled on my shoulder.

"Jesus Christ, Beautiful," my attacker shouted. At least that's what I thought he said, but it was kind of hard to understand him, what with me grinding his face into the floor. I planted my knee into the small of the man's back and leaned forward a little to see just who'd disturbed my sleep. If I pressed a little too hard into his kidneys, too bad.

Yep. I knew that spiky, highlighted hair anywhere.

"Give a girl some warning, Les," I groused as I finally let him up off of the floor. I straightened the T-shirt and yoga pants I'd worn to bed the night before and squinted at my alarm clock. "What are you doing in my bedroom at 4:30 in the morning, anyway?"

"Ouch." He winced as he stood up. "I brought donuts," he said gesturing toward the Dunkin' Donuts bag and coffee carrier sitting on the nightstand.

I snatched up the goodies and brought the coffee cup to my lips, breathing in all of its hot, caffeinated goodness. Miraculously, Les' offering had survived our tussle. "OK, pastry goes a long way toward buying forgiveness, but why –"

There was a thump and a crash in the living room, so I grabbed my gun from the bedside table and snuck over to the bedroom door.

"Why," I whispered, "are there a bunch of RangeMen in my living room?" Hal was putting together what looked like moving boxes, Woody and Zero were wrestling more boxes in through the front door, and it looked like Manny was maybe packing up the kitchen. That explained the noise – I was never all that neat about stacking my pots and pans. I opened the door wider and Hal looked up and waved at us.

"Well, it's like this," Les began as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "You said yourself the other week that you were seriously considering putting my cousin out of his misery and finally moving out of this rat hole, so we're here to help," he finished with a charming grin.

I snorted. "How many times do I have to tell you Rex is a hamster?" I took another sip of coffee and surveyed the activity in the other room. If the guys were listening in, they were doing a good job of hiding it. "Sure, we've talked about living together." Like, maybe when Ranger knew what he was doing about his contract. But I hadn't been in too big of a hurry. We spent every night together when he was in town, anyway, either or seven on in my apartment.

I selected a chocolate glazed from the bag, but snatched it away when Les went to grab his own. "I appreciate the thought," I began, "But I should probably ask Ranger before I actually move in with him."

Les rolled his eyes and finally got the donuts away from me. "You and I both know he wants you on Seven," he mumbled around a bite of a cruller. "In fact his last text to Tank was: I'm out and coming home to my woman."

My eyes widened. "You mean?"

Les grinned and nodded. "This was his final mission, and he didn't sign another contract."

A mixture of emotions surged through me, and I had to tear into a Boston crème to calm them. Elation. Gratitude. And more than a little fear. Tank had woken me up when Ranger had made his last check point and was on his way back to the States, so I'd known he was safe. But now, knowing that he'd never have to go into the wind again… it was hard to describe.

I leaned heavily against the doorjamb. "For real?" When Les nodded, I let out a long breath. "I wasn't sure what he was going to do." Ranger had been surprisingly open with me about his missions, but I hadn't wanted to influence him too much, so we didn't discuss the contract. Lord knows I hate it when people try to tell me what to do.

Les snorted. "You were the only one." When I just glared at him, he grinned. "Nah, he didn't say anything, but we all knew what he was going to do. He'd be a fool not to want to come home to a woman like you."

"Aw." I kissed him on the cheek. Les could be really sweet, sometimes. "So you're sure he won't mind?"

Les shook his head. "Two words. Stephanie Pardo."

I smiled softly. "Yeah." I'd finally gotten up the guts to ask Ranger, shortly after we'd returned from Costa Rica, about why he'd had so many aliases made up for me. His first answer, 'to keep you safe,' hadn't been all that satisfying. I'd pointed out that if that was the case, it'd make more sense to have them completely un-linked to him. He'd finally admitted that he'd created his and her cover identities for us because they made him feel close to me. It was as sweet as it was sad. In his mind, Carlos Maoso couldn't be with Stephanie Plum, but Marc Pardo could be with Stephanie Pardo, and Raphael Mendez could be married to Estephania Mendez.

I polished off my Boston crème and finally entered the living room. The guys had pretty much abandoned all pretense of activity and were instead watching me. I made my way to Rex's cage and tapped on the glass. "Hey Buddy, you want to move to Haywood?" I asked when he poked his head out of his soup can. He twitched his whispers once before disappearing back inside.

"Well, Rex thinks it's a good idea," I told them. I grabbed a box from Zero and started back toward the bedroom. "So I guess that means we're moving."

The guys cheered and Les pulled me into a hug. "That's great, Beautiful. Now if we can get you settled in before tomorrow, I'll win the pool."

He grunted when I elbowed him in the gut. "I was wrong, Santos. There isn't anything sweet about you."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Les called for a few more guys, and by 9 AM, my apartment was packed up and Hal and Zero were driving a load of my cast-off stuff to Goodwill. By 9:30, I'd turned my keys in to the Super, along with a six pack of beer I hadn't gotten around to drinking. Dillon had hugged me goodbye, but had assured me that the building owners wouldn't mind me breaking the lease.

By 10:30, I was alone on the seventh floor, surrounded by a pile of boxes. Ella had offered to help me unpack, but after donating my furniture and most of my kitchen stuff, I really hadn't kept a lot.

I grabbed the single box marked 'kitchen' and put away the crock pot and a Cooking for Dummies book my Mom had given me for Christmas. Ranger had an empty cabinet over the fridge, which was exactly where they'd been in my old apartment. My old friend, the brown bear cookie jar, was placed lovingly on the counter across from Rex. I wasn't using him for a gun safe anymore, but I'd discovered that he was a good place to hide snacks. Who'd thought it?

I bypassed the boxes of photos and mementos, and instead headed into the bedroom with my shoes. Ranger had been serious about sharing closet space, because over the last few months, a full half of it had mysteriously opened up. It was already a really nice closet, but the rows of newly-installed shoe cubbies put it over the top.

In fact, a whole lot more than Carlos' closet had changed over the last year. I'd kept my word and trained with Manny, Les or Hector twice a week. They'd made it fun, and I had to admit that it was nice when I got the skip on the first try, and I hadn't rolled in garbage in months. My jeans fitting better than ever was a nice bonus. Professionally, I was doing better than ever. I still brought in skips for Vinnie a couple of days a week, but just after New Year's Tank and Ranger had talked me into joining the research department. Rodriguez had started to work part-time from home so that he could care for his sick wife.

I'd at first been worried that I'd suffer from permanent numb-butt syndrome, but I'd discovered that RangeMan handled a lot more than just the usual background checks for clients or chasing down local skips. The federal cases I'd helped consult on were fascinating, and somehow Manny and I had stumbled into a lucrative side business. RangeMan hadn't ever really handled PI work before, but I'd picked up that a client's husband was bleeding her dry on a routine background check ,and RangeMan Investigations was born.

Personally, I was happier than ever. My relationship with Ranger – or Carlos when we were in private – was better than I'd ever imagined. Sure, we'd argued some, usually about how I wouldn't let him pay for everything or that time when I'd picked up another stalker and he'd wanted to lock me up in a safe house. But, we'd both kept our tempers, and we'd worked it out. I carried my gun, and when I went out skip tracing, I took one of the off-duty guys with me. Sometimes the RangeMan helped me for a cut of the recovery fee, sometimes they did it for the price of lunch or assistance with 'girlie' stuff. I'd set Cal up with one of my high school classmates, who owned a tattoo parlor in town, and I'd helped the guys shop for a lot of Christmas and birthday gifts.

And at the end of the day, I had my time with Carlos to look forward to. Ella made a pineapple upside down cake so good that I hadn't even suspected it was low-fat until she'd spilled the beans. And Carlos sure could do date night right, and not just for Valentine's Day or my birthday. Flowers, dinner, and dancing, oh my!

Morelli had been pissed when he'd found out about us, but instead of yelling back, I'd reminded him that I'd moved on and so had he. And then I'd calmly finished my meatball sub. I'd heard that Pino had banned him for two weeks, and Eddie and Carl had kept him away from me until he'd cooled down. Grandma Mazur, Connie, and Lula had been thrilled we were dating, and only a little put out when I refused to share any details about size, frequency or Ranger's inventiveness. The answers are 'huge', often, and very, by the way.

My Dad hadn't really cared one way or the other who I was dating – even if Ranger wasn't Italian, and my Mom had settled down after a few especially memorable dinners. She'd decided that anyone who had a good job, and could keep Albert Kloughn and my grandmother in line was worth keeping around. Those were her words, not mine.

So all in all, life was pretty damn good.

I'd just finished placing my last pair of FMPs in its cubby when I heard the front door locks tumble. The tingling sensation that settled along the back of my neck told me that it wasn't Lester or Manny in the other room.

I went out to meet him, and found him still standing in the entryway with a duffel at his feet, staring at my pile of packing boxes with an unreadable expression. "Babe?"

"Welcome back." I bit my lip nervously as I crossed the room. "Uh, I should've probably asked first before…"

His lips lifted in a full, blinding, thousand watt grin. He pulled me to him and cut me off with a kiss that was so panty-melting hot that I almost lost my train of thought.

"So, I moved in," I told him when I finally caught my breath again. "You don't mind?"

"Babe." He grinned again. "I've wanted to share closet space with you for a long time."

"Well, it's a really great closet," I told him, repeating what I'd said in Atlantic City all those months ago.

He pulled me to him again. "I'm definitely not complaining, but what made you decide to move in now?"

I wasn't sure if I should answer, but we'd really been working on the communication thing over the last year. "Well, I realized there wasn't a place I'd rather be, and a little birdie told me some pretty exciting news today."

"Fucking Santos," he muttered under his breath. He carefully guided me around the boxes until we could sit on the couch. "I was going to do it right, tell you over a nice dinner out."

"We can still do that, after I welcome you back, properly," I purred. Welcome home nookie was definitely a personal favorite of mine. Ranger had been gone for over two weeks and I felt like celebrating his coming home without any new holes or stitches. But before he could reach for me, I pulled away slightly.

"You're not going to miss going into the wind, are you?" I asked nervously. I loved the idea that he wouldn't be risking his neck on missions anymore, but I didn't want him to resent me or anything.

His lips twitched slightly. "Babe. I'll get all of the excitement I can handle just keeping up with you."

"Jerk!" I whapped him in the chest and giggled. Maybe he wouldn't be bored, what with my crazy life and family.

He chuckled and drew me back into his arms. "I want to make a home with you, Stephanie. I'm ready for someday."

And just like that, I realized that I was, too. At some point when I wasn't looking, all of my fears had somehow melted away. We were solid. He wasn't going to cheat. He loved me just as I was, and I loved him too. I fumbled under my shirt collar for the chain that I'd worn ever since we'd returned from Costa Rica. It was extra-strong and had safely held the rings he'd left in my keeping.

I undid the clasp and held the engagement ring out to him. "I'm ready for someday, too. Maybe you can find a good place for this?"

And he did. The ring was on my left hand in two seconds flat. Celebrating our engagement took a lot longer, though.

The end.


	11. Updated AN - please read

**Author's note**

**Sorry for the length of this, but I just had a couple of additional things to say. **

I'm reworking this final author's note because I wanted to put the main reason I'm writing this at the beginning, not the end.

To everyone who has read my stories - Thank you. I appreciate everyone who has read them, or read and commented. You're all awesome and I've enjoyed reading the feedback. The JE community is a great community, filled with loyal, generous readers and you're all appreciated.

I've always thought that any art and literature doesn't exist without someone to read or view it. Yes, the creation of art is important, but it's a symbiotic relationship. This is even more true with fanfiction dot net, which is really an open forum designed for immediate feedback.

I began reading Plum fanfic for the same reason I imagine more than a couple of us here did. I'd enjoyed the books over the years, and then I read books 17-19 and was flabbergasted and a little miffed at the lack of character growth. So, I started reading fanfic from time to time because there were some excellent, creative authors there and the stories reminded me of why I enjoyed JE's book in the first place: The humor, the crazy situations, the delicious love triangle. Though, after 21 books, I kinda want that resolved, already :)

I started writing after I read book 20 and I asked myself - if Stephanie Plum were a real woman and not a permanently stunted fictional character, what would she really do after the twentieth car explosion or umpteenth argument with Morelli? Thus, my first story, 'Angel on my Shoulder' was born.

Imagine my surprise when people actually read it and left comments. I then wrote the sequel because, heck, I wanted to see how my Ranger and Stephanie figured out how to have a real relationship. And I wanted to see them get married... just because.

It reminds me of that quote by Joss Whedon (the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer): "There's a time and place for everything, and I believe it's called 'fan fiction'." Yes - he's saying 'I'll do my story my way, stop whining', but he's also being pretty cool about fanfiction. He's saying: 'Go! Write! You want a Buffy/Spike male pregnancy story? Go knock yourself out.' Note, I'm not putting down mpreg stories - I've enjoyed reading a couple in the past in other genres and they are a hoot!

I digress. What I'm trying to say, is I had some ideas and got to write out my hopes for Steph and Ranger (if they were mine to play with), and I feel very fortunate to have been able to do so. I wrote Steph and Joe's break up (three times), S/R getting together (five times) and a satisfying confrontation with Helen Plum that still left Steph in prime Pineapple upside-down cake grabbing position (twice). I wrote four weddings (three S/R and one Les/OC), and I even wrote an AU yarn with Ranger cluelessly raising Julie and Steph as the nanny he hired. Finally, I wrote a story where Stephanie comes to Ranger's rescue (Saving Batman).

And I did it with people cheering me on, which is pretty dang cool.

But, during Saving Batman, I realized that my muse was drying up. While I was writing their big relationship talk I was having trouble with some of the smut and a small section of the talk (probably less than a quarter of the chapter length), so I went back and mined 'Angel on My Shoulder' for some of that chapter. I'd worked very hard on that chapter of 'Angel on My Shoulder' and it's how I wish Steph and Ranger would talk to each other. I was happy with it, and I still am.

And then someone called me on it - scolded me a little and I realized - yeah - my muse is drying up. I've gone back and reworked Chapter 9 of Saving Batman to give that small section of the chapter a fresh outlook, but it really is essentially the same conversation - the same points are hit, and I didn't change the story line. I've also gone back and cleaned up any little typos and goofs I and Alix 33 found to make it nice and pretty.

So, the upshot of this post is that I'm going to take a very long (possibly permanent) break because I don't have any more fresh ideas for Plum fanfic. I decided to leave it here, while I still have eight fairly strong stories, and before it becomes a chore or I start playing mad libs with story lines. You, the readers deserve a top-notch product.

I'm not leaving because someone wrote a not-nice guest review, but because I realized that I wasn't delivering the freshest, tastiest product anymore.

What I am doing is leaving up all of my stories. They're all finished exactly as I'd intended and plotted them out to end (even Saving Batman). I'll still be reading JE FanFic and I'll still be leaving comments and kudos to all of the fabulous stories on this site.

When I first started writing, I just wanted to maybe entertain a couple of people and have some fun. I did promise myself two things: I wouldn't leave a story incomplete, and that I would do it as long as it was fun.

I just didn't want to leave without thanking every one of the readers who followed along on my little fanfiction journey. I've had a great experience and thanks for being a part of it.


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